


Dream Killer

by mvsic_bxxks_stvdy



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: AU - the dream thieves, Blood, Ear Piercing, M/M, Nightmares, Suicide Attempt, Underage Drinking, kavinsky uses a homophobic slur, saving noah
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:55:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 31,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25032049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mvsic_bxxks_stvdy/pseuds/mvsic_bxxks_stvdy
Summary: Ronan Lynch is a man with extraordinary talents. If he can bring a living, breathing bird from a dream, what’s stopping him from bringing his best friend back from the grave? But some challenges are too great for one dreamer alone.
Relationships: Joseph Kavinsky/Ronan Lynch, Noah Czerny/Joseph Kavinsky, Noah Czerny/Ronan Lynch
Comments: 4
Kudos: 47
Collections: TRC Big Bang 2020





	1. Show and Tell

Being friends with Richard Campbell Gansey the third had its ups and downs. Ronan, who was generally a creature of the dark, considered hikes through tick-infested fields with the heat of the Virginia sun on the back of his neck to be a down. And yet here he was again, at the asscrack of dawn, speeding down the highway in the backseat of the Camaro on his way to do exactly that.

To make matters worse, Noah was not there. Noah could nearly always work a smile out of him. As of late, he had been absent more and more. This frustrated Ronan badly. Hadn’t they dug his bones up, and moved them to the ley line? Even so, his presence had been intermittent and hazy. He was not here now, which left Ronan in the backseat with only Parrish and Chainsaw, who crouched between them with her claws biting into the vinyl. Adam was fine company when he was awake, but currently his head was tipped back and his mouth lolled open, letting out a soft snore now and then. Gansey was speaking animatedly to Blue Sargent, paying no attention to Ronan’s sulk.

He was just considering telling Blue, who sat shotgun, that she didn’t need all the leg room she was taking up when Gansey pulled them off the main road and onto a smaller road. It was barely more than a path through the brush. Ronan even thought it might be someone’s driveway, until he spied a street sign, nearly obscured by Virginia creeper, that read Hanmer Road. Gansey was out first, and Ronan shoved Adam’s shoulder to wake him and climbed out himself, unfolding his legs and cracking his back with enough relish and grotesque popping that Adam gave him a look. 

“What?” Ronan snapped at him. He was so ready to fight, he felt like a spring coiled overtight. Chainsaw saw daylight and hopped to the edge of the seat, and Ronan offered his forearm to her and transferred her to his shoulder.

Adam rested his arms on the top of the Camaro. He turned his gaze away, staring out across the empty field that ran alongside the road, eyes catching on an old barn which was in a state of disrepair not even a king’s favour could fix. 

“Nothing,” he said, voice sleepy and accented.

Gansey must have sensed how Ronan would pounce on any animosity, for he waved them toward him with a broad gesture that included his whole arm and shoulder. 

“I have a good feeling about this.”

Ronan didn’t share this outlook, but he slammed the car door and followed anyway, as they gathered around The Pig’s trunk. Gansey coaxed it open and began to extract equipment, which he bequeathed to them cheerfully. Ronan sniggered as Gansey passed a bulky telescope to Blue, and she shot him a look that dared him to comment. Ronan was already carrying his own bag and bird, and so avoided any of the heavier equipment. Adam had an electromagnetic frequency reader and a heavy backpack loaded with gear. Gansey wore a matching pack. A good king shared the work, rather than forcing it all on his subjects, Ronan thought with a sneer.

Equipped and ready, they set off. Blue walked a pace ahead of Ronan and Adam a pace behind, Gansey leading the way. They made their way down the road, which became increasingly rundown until it was barely more than a path weaving its way through the brush and then out, overlooking a rising slope that inclined towards the foothills of the Virginia mountains. The morning sun shone off a thousand glimmering dew drops on the untended wild grasses.

Ronan grimaced. He could already tell it was going to be hot.

Gansey had his notebook open in his hand, finger tracing down the pages. He checked his compass and pointed up the hill. 

“This way, I think. If we approach from the north, we won’t be coming at the forest from head on. We can minimize risk…”

Ronan missed the rest. A gnat had buzzed beside his ear, and he had smacked himself in an attempt to swat it. Adam snickered and was only saved from the full brunt of Ronan’s annoyance when another laugh joined his. Looking up, he spotted Noah standing with them now.

Just like that, the day had improved.

They began to climb the hills. It was slow progress. After an increasingly warm hour of climbing, stopping, waiting, and repeating, Ronan voiced his suspicion that including someone half as tall as the rest of them in their party might be slowing them down. 

“I think you have a point,” Noah said, as three of the boys paused on the hilltop to wait as Gansey doubled back to check on Blue. “You should carry her next time.”

Ronan scoffed. “Neither of us wants that,” he sneered. He glanced out across the valley, squinting down at the town of Henrietta glistening in the hot summer air. Now seemed as good a time as any to show them what he had brought. “Who wants to see some cool shit.”

Noah bobbed his head, flapping eagerly. Adam rubbed sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, inclining his head with interest. Chainsaw cawed, happily and rudely.

“Circle up,” Ronan grunted, and the boys gathered. From his bag, Ronan withdrew his newest dream thing. It was a plane, barely as big as the span of Ronan’s fingers. The cool plastic warmed quickly with Ronan’s fingers on it. In the dream it had been a proper little toy, with windows and doors and decals on the exterior. In the dream, when you peaked inside the windows, you had seen the pilot in his minuscule seat. In waking life, it was featureless. He dumped his bag on the ground, and the controller spilled out into the grass.

They all looked up as Gansey and Blue joined the circle. Ronan ignored the way Adam’s gaze lingered on Blue’s, and how he touched Blue’s elbow. He focused on his little plane.

“Open it up,” Adam said, dubious.

“Doubting Thomas.” Ronan sneered harmlessly. He flipped the plane over and opened the hatch on the bottom, which was empty.

“Well, it’s impossible, then,” Adam said. Ronan’s lips twitched, fighting a smirk. Of course, Adam Parrish, the scientist, would not believe. He lifted his gaze, watching Adam lift a stray grasshopper off the collar of his shirt. “It won’t fly if it has no battery and no engine.”

A glimpse of Adam’s neck, arching away as he extracted the insect, made Ronan’s words cruel. “‘It won’t fly if it has no battery and no engine.’” He repeated, mimicking that Henrietta accent he knew Adam hated. It was payback for how gently Adam had touched Blue’s arm. “Noah: the controller.”

Noah grabbed the controller from where it had rolled. It matched the plane perfectly; they were a pair.

“What’s supposed to go inside the plane, if not a battery?” Gansey asked.

This perplexed Ronan too. Like the tiny pilot inside and the details on the toy, the intended contents had been left in the dream. “I don’t know. In the dream it was little missiles, but I guess they didn’t come with.”

“Here.” Blue had picked a few seed heads from the grass around them.

“Good thinking, maggot.” She dropped them in Ronan’s hand, and he fit them into the hatch. He reached for the controller from Noah but found it in Adam’s hand instead. He was shaking it by his ear as if he expected it to make a sound.

“This doesn’t even weigh anything,” Adam said, passing the controller to Blue. Ronan took it back and passed the plane to Noah.

“It worked in the dream, so it’ll work now. Hold it up,” Ronan ordered.

On his shoulder, Chainsaw stretched her wings. They both watched Noah lift the plane aloft. She squawked her name for him. “Kerah.”

“Yes.” Ronan agreed. He ordered the group at large. “Count it down.”

Together they chanted a count down, and when blast-off was uttered, Ronan jammed his thumb onto the controller. Just as it had in the dream, just as he’d known it would, the plane soared free above their heads. As Gansey laughed and the group watched, Chainsaw pushed off his shoulder and soared after it. He entertained her with it a few moments, before sending a cascade of seed heads down on them with the press of a button.

“You incredible creature,” Gansey said, voice hushed with awe. But Ronan’s focus was on Noah. His hand was outstretched, a hopeful landing spot for the plane which was now only a speck in the blue sky. Today, in the bright sunlight, Noah looked nearly real.

The conversation wandered and in time they collected their packs again and began to make their way once more. Noah fell into step with Ronan as they strolled the sunny hillsides, watching the two dream things chasing in the sky above. “I have something to show, too,” he told Ronan softly.

Ronan glanced down at Noah. “Yeah?” He asked, distracted from his piloting. The plane plummeted, and Chainsaw followed just as fast, though Ronan caught it only out of the corner of his eye.

Noah was twisting his hands. “Yeah,” he said. “Watch this.”

Without elaborating, he ran ahead to where the bird was landing. She pecked at the lifeless plane and cawed her disappointment loudly to the hilltop.

“Watch what?” Ronan asked. He blinked, raising an arm to wipe sweat off his brow. When he lowered his hand, he could no longer see Noah. Instantly his spirits plummeted.

Chainsaw flapped up from the grass and landed heavily on his shoulder, rustling her wings and settling. She gripped his shoulder with her talons and opened her beak, and out poured Noah’s voice. “Squash one, squash two!”

Ronan’s spirits returned. He laughed, looking over at Chainsaw “Who gave you permission to possess my damn bird?”

The bird parted her beak and Noah’s voice came through again. “I can stop, if you want,” he said apologetically. “I thought it was cool.”

Ronan shrugged his unoccupied shoulder. “I didn’t know you could do this.”

Noah-in-Chainsaw clicked and parted their beak experimentally and flapped their wings. Ronan chuckled. It reminded him suddenly of how Noah flapped his hands when he was agitated. The bird spoke again. “I didn’t know either. Is it creepy?”

“A bit. Can you do this to all animals?”

“I’ve only really tried it on Chainsaw,” Noah told him. Ronan’s brain smoothed out what happened next, and he found himself with Chainsaw on his shoulder and Noah beside him, reaching up to pet her spiky feathers. “Nice birdy…”

Ronan lifted Chainsaw down from his shoulder and cradled her, inspecting the bird. She looked none the worse for wear despite the possession and seemed as happy as ever. He glanced over at Noah, meeting his eyes. “Fucking wild.”

Noah nodded proudly, bouncing as they walked.

The gears in Ronan’s head were starting to turn. “Could you do it to a human?” He asked. They had fallen a few yards back from the others. Gansey still walked in the lead, and Blue and Adam were side by side before them.

Noah shrugged his shoulders. He seemed more interested in showing off the trick than working out the implications of what it might mean.

“Maybe you could do it to a human,” Ronan said softly.

Noah hummed.

As Ronan’s thoughts roamed through the possibilities, Chainsaw let out a loud caw and took off from his shoulder. Her powerful wings beat the air as she rose over the foothills, up to the clear blue sky, guiding the party onwards to adventure.


	2. Dream Come True

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Maybe you could dream me a body. And we could…we could see if that works.”

_I know why you’re mad_.

Ronan awoke with those words ringing in his ears, drowning out the heavy bass pulsing through his headphones. He sat up abruptly and cast them off, letting them fall to the floor as he shoved the tangled sheets of his legs. It was too fucking hot to fall asleep, and his dreams were too chaotic to stay asleep.

 _It’s not my job to tell other people’s secrets_.

Those words Noah had spoken at the Dollar City were still dominating Ronan’s thoughts. So, Noah knew. Of course he knew, the little creep was always lurking about. It was easy to miss his presence in Monmouth if you weren’t looking for him. What had clued him in? Had Ronan let his gaze linger too long on Gansey or Parrish? Or was Noah in his head, could he sense his thoughts?

Swearing softly, Ronan got off his bed and paced over to the window. He leaned against it, the cool glass soothing on his hot skin. He trusted Noah not to tell, probably, but it was mortifying to be known in a way that he wasn’t sure he even understood himself.

“Are you mad at me?”

Ronan jerked with surprise at Noah’s voice so close to his ear. “Jesus Mary,” he cursed, twisting to see the ghost boy. Noah stood in the silvery moonlight cast through the window, looking permeable and smudgy. He stared mournfully at Ronan, and Ronan felt himself soften, just a bit.

“No,” he told Noah. He could not stay mad at him.

“I think it’s cool,” Noah said, shrugging his shoulders up to his ears.

Ronan let out a snort. “’Cool’?” He repeated scornfully. “That’s really the word you’re choosing?”

Noah smiled sheepishly. “It’s not a bad thing, I mean.”

Ronan turned back to the window. “Great, thanks, everything is fixed now. It’s ‘cool’. Thank fucking God I had you here.”

It was silent for a moment, and Ronan feared he had scared Noah away with his harsh words. Then he felt a cold touch against his hand where it rested on the windowsill. Glancing down, he saw Noah’s pale hand beside his. Noah’s pinkie finger lay over his.

“You don’t have to be mad about it,” Noah said softly. Ronan was already getting angry, he hated talking like this. He hated how Noah’s voice got softer, as if he was a child who needed coaxing to eat his vegetables. He hated that they weren’t just joking around like they usually did. “Gansey won’t care. Adam won’t care. I don’t care.”

“You don’t know,” Ronan snapped at him.

“They’re your friends, Ronan,” Noah’s voice was very soft. His presence beside Ronan was soothing like the cool window.

“I don’t want to talk about it anymore,” Ronan said, sliding his hand away from Noah’s. He pushed off the sill and went to the bed, slumping down onto it again. He lay with his hands linked on his stomach and his legs bent, staring at a spot of water damage on his ceiling. After a moment he felt that chill beside him that meant Noah had joined him.

“What do you want to talk about?” Noah asked. When Ronan looked up, Noah was sitting criss-cross-applesauce beside his shoulder, scratching at his ear.

Ronan rolled over, begrudgingly casting his mind around for something to discuss. “How you possessed my fucking bird,” he decided after a moment.

Noah perked up, smiling slowly. “I just…kinda…went into her body and…” He spread his arms, as if miming a slow expansion. “Took over.”

“Had you done it before?” Ronan asked.

Noah nodded, looking sheepish. “Sometimes I get bored.”

Ronan could understand this. The restless energy that drove him onto the streets to race with Kavinsky was only partly self-hatred. A lot of it was boredom. “Try it with me. What you did with Chainsaw. Possess me.”

Noah blinked down at him, looking fearful. “What if it hurts?”

“Then you won’t be fucking allowed to do it to Chainsaw anymore,” Ronan said. “Try me. I can take it.”

Noah closed his eyes, and bowed his head, until they were more than touching. Noah was phasing through him, like a hand through the air. But he didn’t feel different, he still felt in control of his body.

“I can’t…” Noah said quietly. “It doesn’t work.”

Ronan rolled onto his back, sighing. He had been thinking about it for the past days, and he had been nearly sure it would work. Though, he wasn’t sure what they could do with Noah controlling his body. Probably majorly creep all their friends out, for a start.

Noah sat up again, frowning. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Don’t say sorry,” Ronan murmured. “I didn’t know if it would work. Maybe…maybe it has to be a dream.”

Noah gulped. His gaze flicked down, he seemed on the verge of asking something. Ronan waited, arching a brow.

“Maybe you could dream me a body. And we could…we could see if that works,” he blurted out all at once.

“Dream a body for you?” Ronan asked slowly. He had never dreamt a human. Could he do it? It seemed doubtful. But Noah turned his gaze on Ronan, and it was hard to resist that look. 

“Please, Ronan?” Noah whispered. “If I had a body, we could do all kinds of stuff for real. We could go to Dollar City for real, and get gelato, and go on adventures…”

Ronan could see how badly Noah wanted it. He knew that once the idea was in Noah’s head, he would not forget it any time soon. And Noah deserved a body, probably more than most living people did. Still, there were certain logistical concerns to consider. For example: Noah had been dead for seven years. His school photo had been in newspapers and on the regional news, first in stories pleading for help locating the lost boy, then stories announcing that the seven-year search had reached an unhappy end. Even if Ronan could dream him a body, which already seemed unlikely, he feared it would attract unwanted attention.

“What if it didn’t look like you?” Ronan asked slowly.

Noah blinked down at him. “Oh… yeah,” He agreed slowly. “Yeah… any body is fine.”

“I’ll try,” Ronan promised him. It wasn’t ideal.

“Just…go to sleep, and think of me, and when you wake up…bring me with you,” Noah said, closing his eyes as if he was imagining it.

Ronan gazed up at the ceiling. It was easy for Noah to say this, he didn’t know what dreaming was like. “Will you come with me into the dream?” He asked. “And help me make it how you want?”

Noah nodded his head, tone hushed as he spoke. “Will you do it tonight?”

Ronan grunted to the affirmative.

Noah grinned. He stretched out beside Ronan, his presence cooling. Ronan was so tired, but that was never an indication to how easily sleep would come. He never found it easy to fall asleep, and now he could feel Noah’s gaze boring into the side of his skull. He swatted at it as if there was an insect there. “Quit _looking_ , Noah!” The intense feeling of being watched faded, and he looked over, finding Noah laying there resolutely pretending to be asleep. Ronan couldn’t help the smile that crossed his lips as he settled down and tried to sleep.

For once, sleep was not so far away. Perhaps it was the fact that he had suffered a week of bad nights, perhaps it was Noah beside him. His waking world – the silvery moonlight through the window, the sound of crickets in the night, the warm breeze – all faded out and he found himself in the dream forest. It was daylight here, though the thick canopy of leaves blocked the harsh sun. The trees greeted him softly, their leaves shushing together. 

“Ronan!”

Ronan turned, surprised by the bright voice that called to him. He saw Noah there, running towards him through the trees. He looked as whole and flushed as a living boy, his cheek undamaged and his eyes bright. Ronan couldn’t suppress a grin as Noah neared him.

“Are you ready to dream me?” Noah asked excitedly, stumbling to a stop before nearly crashing into Ronan.

“Yes,” Ronan confirmed, catching Noah’s shoulders so he wouldn’t fall. He wanted to bring this bright boy to life, to see him this real in the waking world. Ronan knew what he had to do. He gazed down at Noah, ran his thumbs over Noah’s whole and undamaged cheeks, he touched him and memorized him and made him real.

He wished he could bring this Noah to the waking world, but it was no good. If he looked like Noah Czerny, famously dead and buried, then they could not go get gelato or have adventures. So he edited Noah in his dream. He dragged his thumbs over Noah’s pudgy cheeks, smoothing them down – like Adam’s. He touched his fingers to Noah’s brows, and they went from pale to dark and handsome – like Gansey’s. He carded his fingers through Noah’s hair, turning his fine and white-blonde locks as dark and spikey as Sargent’s. Noah laughed at the feeling of it. Smirking, Ronan dragged his fingertip down Noah’s nose, making it match his own strong Lynch feature. The Noah looking up at him was unrecognizable, a conjugate of all the features of his friends. Perfectly disguised.

But those eyes, those big sweet blue eyes. They were a dead giveaway. Though Ronan hated to do it, he focused on changing the eyes of the body before him from brilliant blue to beautiful dark honey-hazel.

Then he pulled him into his arms.

And woke up.

His bedroom at Monmouth was no longer lit by moonlight, but rather by rays of sunlight falling through the window and illuminating two figures on the bed. One, Ronan, coming awake slowly and paralyzed as he always was after dreaming. The second – pale and soft, with pudgy cheeks and sweet lips and eyes closed as if sleeping. A pulse beat, his chest rose and fell with breath. A living boy. A copy of Noah. As Ronan slowly came to move his limbs, he reached a finger out and lay it on Noah’s cheek, where it was whole and undamaged.

“Fuck.” He said, when his lips worked again. All the work in his dream to disguise Noah had not come through when he brought the body to reality. He looked exactly like Noah Czerny, and it was too late to go back. “Czerny? Hey, can you hear me? Wake up,” he whispered.

“Is that my new body?”

Ronan jolted badly and twisted around, finding Noah standing in the middle of the room, gazing at the dreamed body.

“Jesus fucking Christ, you little asshole.” He gasped, sitting up. “Yes, fuck, that’s your new body. Why aren’t you fucking /in/ it?”

“Give me a second…” Noah said. “Wasn’t it supposed to look … not … like … me?”

Ronan bared his teeth. “Dreaming isn’t as fucking easy as that, okay?”

“I’m not mad,” Noah murmured. He moved forward and lay down on the bed beside the body, took a breath, and pressed against it, sliding more and more into it until Noah the ghost was gone and only Noah the body remained. Ronan held his breath.

The body opened its eyes. Ronan released his held breath, gazing down into Noah’s big eyes, alive in a way he hadn’t seen before. “Noah?” He asked, his voice rough. His heart was in his throat, buoyed up by desperate hope.

“ _Ronan_ ,” Noah said. He gasped, sounding on the edge of tears as he heard his own voice. He rocketed up clumsily and threw his arms around Ronan and began to shake with either laughter or sobs.

Ronan hugged him back, disbelieving. “Czerny… you asshole… how does it feel, did I do it right?” He asked.

Noah pulled away from him and began to inspect himself. He patted his chest and stomach, counted his fingers, then bounced up and went to look at his reflection in Ronan’s mirror. He turned to Ronan, beaming. 

“It’s _perfect_ , Ronan,” he whispered.

Ronan sat up, watching Noah inspect himself in the mirror. “We have to change it up. You can’t go outside like that. You know?”

“I know,” Noah whispered. He stared at himself in the mirror, then turned and looked at Ronan with a sheepish grin. “…Well, I always wanted to dye my hair.” 

Ronan grinned back at him. He was slowly coming to terms with the fact that he had not only dreamt a body, his first ever human body, he had dreamt his friend back to life. “Yeah? Sometimes I forget that you’re really a punk little shit.”

Noah plucked at his Aglionby uniform that Ronan had dreamed the body in. “It’s this outfit.”

“Agreed.” Ronan groaned. He leaned over the side of his bed, snatching up a cap from the mess of his floor and chucking it at Noah. “Take that sweater off. Put this on. We’re going to get some fucking hair dye.” 


	3. Man Alive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ronan growled and caught him at the bottom of the stairs. “Sneaky, asshole, we’re being sneaky!”
> 
> “I can’t help it!” Noah laughed, breathless with glee. “I’m not used to having a body.”

Noah was radiant with excitement as he pulled the cap Ronan had given him onto his head. They dug through Ronan’s clothes to find something to replace Noah’s uniform. Ronan’s shirts were too long on him but worked fine, they managed to find a Greenday tee in the mess of laundry on his floor. It was harder to find jeans that fit, as they were all a bit long in the leg and tight at the waist, but they managed to find a pair and cuff them up for Noah.

Ronan pressed a finger to his lips and pulled the door open a crack, listening for Gansey’s breathing from the direction of his bed. After a moment there was a sleepy shifting of sheets and a soft snore. Ronan grinned at Noah and motioned him forward, and they crept out through the main room of Monmouth and down the stairs. Ronan went down them as lightly as possible, but Noah’s footfalls were so heavy they shook dust from the joints of the metal structure.

Ronan growled and caught him at the bottom. “Sneaky, asshole, we’re being sneaky!”

“I can’t help it!” Noah laughed, breathless with glee. “I’m not used to having a _body_.”

Out the door and into the moonlit yard, where Ronan tossed his keys to Noah. “Drive safe,” he told him, with a playful twist of his lips. Noah was cautious as they pulled out of the lot, but once they were on the road his caution was forgotten as he sped through the empty streets. Ronan laughed, spreading his fingers on the dashboard as the night sped by outside. “Shit, Czerny!”

Noah let out a joyful whoop, ignoring Ronan’s reprimand.

Though Ronan knew something of Noah’s life – the red Mustang in the woods, the theft of schnapps, his love of skateboarding and punk music – he had never really been able to reconcile it with the shy and faded boy he knew. But now, Ronan could see all this wildness that was in his friend. All Noah had needed was a body and a fast car, and he was himself again.

“Pull in here, speed racer,” Ronan directed, pointing to the 24-hour grocery store and pharmacy. Noah did as told, turning sloppily and pulling abruptly into the spot. Ronan reached over and yanked his keys out of the ignition. “You’re never fucking touching these again.”

Noah grinned. “I’m just out of practice…” he argued as they headed into the store.

“No fucking way. That’s not how someone who is ‘out of practice’ drives,” Ronan said as they passed through the automatic doors. The store was empty except for the clerk behind the cash register, who barely noticed them as they stepped in. Ronan led Noah down the aisles, the bright fluorescent erasing any sense of nighttime from his mind as he searched for dye.

“There aren’t any fun colours,” Noah complained, as they browsed their options. It was all the natural shades, root touch-ups for the middle-aged insecure housewife.

Ronan selected a box of black dye and held it up before Noah. “Nothing is punker than black.”

Noah took the box and eyed it critically, then nodded his agreement. He glanced up at Ronan. “What else?”

Twenty minutes later, they deposited their haul on the check-out conveyor. The hair dye, a set of cheap stud earrings, rubbing alcohol, a pack of sewing needles, and a case of beer. Ronan flipped out his card to pay as Noah bundled the items up in his arms. The cashier didn’t pay any attention to Noah. He eyed the beers and then Ronan, who sneered back at him and flipped out his fake ID. Satisfied, the boy ran the items through, and Ronan collected his six-pack. Noah took the fake ID as they made their way back outside, admiring it. “Oh, you’re twenty-three?” He teased, waving it at Ronan.

Ronan snatched for it. “They never fucking ask for it.”

“Because you’re ten feet tall and hairy like bigfoot.” Noah giggled, nearly dropping his purchases as Ronan grabbed, but keeping his hold on the license. “Did you dream this? It’s good.”

“Kavinsky made it for me,” Ronan grunted. Despite his insistence that Noah would never drive the BMW again, he slid into the passenger side.

“Kavinsky?” Noah asked in surprise, as he dumped his stuff in the backseat and got into the driver’s side again, accepting the keys that Ronan passed him. “Isn’t he that creepy one? I thought you hated him.”

Ronan shrugged. “No one at school makes a better fake than Kavinsky.” 

He took the license back from Noah and inspected it. It was perfect, undeniably so. Amazing to think a coked-up shitstain like Kavinsky could make something this detailed. After one of their midnight races, Kavinsky had flicked it through the open window of his mitsu at Ronan, his grin hollow. Ronan remembered the way Kavinsky’s voice had swung low as he stretched that favourite word of his, as he branded Ronan a _fag_ and burned rubber, disappearing down the street as Ronan stared at the new fake license in his hand. All the info was right, save for the date of birth. He still couldn’t fathom why Kavinsky would make him something like this, unprompted.

Ronan shook himself from his reverie and tucked the card away. He reached round into the back seat, picking up the pack of needles and the earrings. “You sure about this, Czerny?”

Noah bobbed his head, tapping his fingers excitedly on the wheel. “I’ve always wanted to pierce my ears, my parents never let me.”

“You wanna do mine too?” Ronan asked, inspecting the points of the needles. This was going to fucking hurt.

Noah grinned.

Back at Monmouth, they crept back upstairs, and into the kitchen/bathroom/laundry. Ronan threw a towel around Noah’s shoulders and opened the package of dye. It came with cheap disposable gloves and a couple of squeeze bottles of the inky dye. Noah leaned over the sink, fighting giggles, as Ronan squeezed liberal amounts of black dye over his pale hair. It got everywhere, not only on the towel but also on the sink and even the floor.

“Quit squirming, Czerny!” Ronan barked, as another glob of dye rolled off Noah’s hair and splattered on the tile.

“It tickles when you do that!” Noah defended, struggling as Ronan massaged the dye into his scalp.

“…is that my towel?”

Both boys straightened abruptly as Gansey’s voice came from the door, sleepy and confused. He stood there in pyjamas and wireframes, blinking blearily at the two of them. “…What’s going on?”

Ronan couldn’t control the grin across his face. “I dreamt a body. For Noah,” he told Gansey, waving at Noah, who did a happy little jump when he was indicated.

Gansey stared between them for a long moment, then rubbed his eyes. “…Am I dreaming? Is that my towel?”

Ronan checked the tag. “Yeah. But, look, Noah’s here!”

Gansey nodded slowly. He eyed the mess of black dye saturating Noah’s head. “What are you doing to him?”

Ronan thought it was pretty obvious. “He can’t hang out with us if he looks like Noah.”

Gansey let out a long breath, leaning slowly against the doorway. “Jesus Christ.”

“What?” Ronan asked, feeling a twinge of annoyance.

“Give me a second, Ronan,” Gansey said slowly. He looked up at Noah, and slowly grinned, taking in his living appearance. “Wow. This is… Jesus, I need to call Adam.”

“Yes!” Noah beamed. “Can you make him come over? Please?”

By now, the floor was becoming treacherously messy with dye. Ronan felt that they probably wouldn’t have included gloves if this were the kind of substance that came out easily. “Get back over the sink, shithead, and let me rinse this off you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to sinplaytheartist for their fantastic artwork!


	4. Rooftop Follies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Noah gathered up their things, expression eager. “Where are we going?”
> 
> Ronan pointed upwards, smirking at Gansey. “To the roof.”

By the time Ronan had washed the dye out of Noah’s hair – now stark raven black, as were the tips of his ears – and cleaned up the bathroom, and put Gansey’s towel in to wash, Adam had arrived at Monmouth.

“Did I wake you?” Gansey asked, as he greeted Adam at the door. Ronan watched from where he lounged against Gansey’s mattress, beside Noah.

“I was up already,” Adam said, rubbing his eyes. “Working on that … uh … calculus homework. What did you need to show me, Gansey? What did Ronan do?”

In response, Gansey stepped aside to allow Adam a clear view of Noah. Adam’s fine brows furrowed slightly as he stared, then his lips parted in shocked realization.

Ronan could do nothing but grin. He had fixed Noah, single handedly made him live again.

“Noah,” Adam said softly, approaching with caution. His gaze flicked over to Ronan, and Ronan knew that Adam instantly understood how Noah had come to be here, alive and thriving. “You dreamt him a body.”

“Yeah.” Ronan crossed his arms over his chest, tipping his chin smugly.

Adam joined them on the floor, looking over Noah slowly. “And now you’re disguising him. Why didn’t you just dream him to look different?”

“I tried,” Ronan grunted. “Didn’t work. You want to give it a try, then, Parrish? Be my guest.”

Adam raised his hands in surrender, his focus on Noah. “The hair is a good start,” he mused. “Still, this is… beyond dangerous.”

Ronan felt himself bristle at Adam’s words. Of course, Parrish would think it was dangerous, he thought everything was a risk. Everything except sacrificing yourself to an ancient forest.

Gansey joined them, sitting on Noah’s other side. “Well, we just won’t bring him around the school,” he said reasonably.

“I can still go on adventures, right?” Noah asked, twisting his hands. “No one would see us there... right?” 

Gansey looked at Adam. Adam rubbed his chin and shook his head slightly. Ronan was halfway to snapping at him before Adam shrugged one shoulder and slowly said. “Doesn’t seem too dangerous. We just can’t let anyone recognize him.”

Ronan sat back. “Don’t worry,” he said with a grin, holding up their other purchases from the store. “We have big plans for that.”

Gansey took one look at the pack of needles and went white as a sheet. Adam arched a dusty brow. “How’s that going to help disguise him?”

“It’s not... I just want to,” Noah said eagerly. He uncapped the rubbing alcohol. “Can we do it now?”

“Hold your fucking horses,” Ronan snapped. He grabbed for a beer. “I want to get drunk first.”

“Before you do it to /me/?” Noah giggled. “Or before I do it to you?”

“Both.” Ronan knocked the beer lid on a jutting floorboard, and quickly put the bottle to his lips to catch the foamy spill.

“No. No, no way,” Gansey said, waving his hands and looking queasy. “Please don’t do this in my house.”

“‘House’,” Ronan scoffed softly.

“While you’re under my roof, you’ll follow my rules,” Gansey said sternly, in a bid for authority that was slightly undercut by his waxy complexion. Adam badly disguised a laugh as a cough. 

Ronan grinned. He got up, grabbing the six pack as he stood. “Noah. Get the supplies. Let’s go.”

Noah gathered up their things, expression eager. “Where are we going?”

Ronan pointed upwards, smirking at Gansey. “To the roof.”

Noah’s breathless laughter and Adam’s snickers followed Ronan as he went to the windows and used his foot to push open the one which led to the fire escape. The hinges protested with a groan, but he got it open and began to scale the rickety metal steps, his open beer in one hand and the other five clinking in their case in his other hand. He glanced down and saw Noah behind him, and to his surprise, Parrish too. Gansey stuck his head out the window and looked up at them. 

“Ronan! Does this seem like a good idea to you?”

Ronan paused at the top of the fire escape, setting the case of beers on the roof and looking out over Henrietta. Sunlight was just barely touching the horizon, sending scattered sunbeams high into the heavens. People would not be waking for a few hours yet, save the paper delivery man who tossed rolled newspapers from his pick-up truck window onto people’s dewy lawns. Ronan glanced back down at Gansey. 

“Yeah,” he called back and scrambled up onto the roof. He took a gulp of beer and pulled Noah up next, then moved back to give Adam room to scramble up. The roof was flat with a rough surface not ideal for sitting on. Several old vents made strange silhouettes in the early light, and trash huddled in piles at the edges of the roof, kept there by the low walls that surrounded the entire space.

Noah took a bottle of beer and held it out to Ronan, and Ronan deftly opened it and passed it back. “Want one, Parrish?”

Adam sat down beside them, shaking his head. “How are you going to pierce each other's ears if you’re drunk?” He asked, picking up the needles. 

“Don’t get your panties twisted, one beer won’t make me drunk,” Ronan grunted. He reached over and tugged on Noah’s earlobe. “Hey. Are you going to get drunk and stab me in the face with that damn needle?”

“No!” Noah gasped with laughter, batting Ronan off. “No, I promise I’ll be careful!”

“I’ll do it,” Adam said, now inspecting the rubbing alcohol. Ronan glanced over, and Noah leaned forward to see Adam. Adam lifted his gaze and glanced at the two of them. “That’s the only way this doesn’t end in a visit to the hospital.”

“Fair enough, Parrish. But do you have the balls?” Ronan asked. He drained the last of his beer. 

“Do you?” Adam asked. He tore the package of cotton balls open.

“Yeah,” Ronan grunted, reaching for a second beer.

“You can go first then,” Noah said with a grin.

“Hey!” Ronan swatted playfully at him. “This was your idea!”

Adam wetted the cotton with rubbing alcohol and grabbed Ronan’s shoulder. “If you have the balls to do it, you have the balls to go first,” he murmured, his voice near Ronan’s ear as he dabbed both sides of his lobe with alcohol. He pulled back and extracted one of the needles from the package, dipping it in the alcohol. “Ready, Lynch?”

Ronan glanced at Noah, who had his hands pressed over his mouth. “If you don’t go through with this, I’m going to skin you,” he growled at him. “Yeah, I’m fucking ready.”

“Here,” Noah peeped, slipping his hand into Ronan’s and squeezing. Ronan held tight and squeezed his eyes shut, as he felt Adam press the tip of the needle to his earlobe, and piece it with a single sharp stab.

“Motherfucker!” Ronan cursed, though the pain was not that bad. Adam extracted the needle, and took up the pack of cheap earrings. He splashed alcohol over one and pushed it through the fresh wound. 

“Jesus, God, Parrish!” Ronan snapped. “How the fuck do you know how to do this?”

Adam shrugged. “Are you going to sit still while I do the other one?” He asked, raising the cotton ball threateningly. Ronan gripped Noah’s hand again as Adam pierced his other ear with a fresh needle, and put in the matching piercing. Both ears throbbed dully as Noah leaned forward to get a look. 

“They look really good,” he reported, with a soft smile. “I think that really suits you.”

“Your turn,” Ronan warned. 

Noah didn’t look frightened, only excited. He set his empty beer aside, and Adam moved to sit beside him instead. Noah’s hand still gripped Ronan’s, and Ronan allowed it, watching as Adam prepared his tools. Noah’s blue eyes locked on Ronan’s, the morning sunlight falling over both of them. Adam pierced his lobe and Noah gasped, gulping as tears jumped to his eyes and he swayed.

“Woah,” Ronan lurched forward, wrapping an arm around Noah and keeping him upright.

Adam slid the needle out of the hole, eyeing Noah carefully. “Noah? You okay?”

“Ow…” Noah whispered, reaching up to touch his ear. 

Ronan caught that hand and kept it down. “No you don’t.” He murmured.

Adam cleaned a stud and carefully installed it into the new hole, then sat back on his heels. “Ready for the other one, Noah?”

Noah shook his head back and forth, looking as pale as he had as a ghost.

This was how they ended up seated on the roof, all three in a line, one with two ears freshly pieced and one with only a single pierced ear. They all watched the sun come up, as Ronan nursed the last of his second beer and Noah leaned his uninjured ear on Ronan’s shoulder.

Adam dragged his wrist over his forehead. “I have class in two hours. Why am I up here?”

“Shh,” Ronan said, leaning the mouth of his bottle against his lower lip. “Noah’s going to sleep.”

Adam looked over at them, and Ronan tipped his chin towards Noah’s bobbing head. Adam was silent for several more minutes, before he said quietly. “What’s it going to be like, now that he’s… alive again?”

Ronan shook his head slightly. It was catching up to him now, what this meant for them. “I don’t think anything will change.”

Adam looked over. “Don’t you?”

Ronan didn’t reply. After several more long beats of silence, Adam stood up and made his way to the edge of the roof. He climbed over the barrier and began to descend, soon out of sight. Ronan exhaled, glancing down at Noah. He looked different now, with his jet black hair and single piercing, dressed in Ronan’s dark clothing.

“Noah,” Ronan rumbled.

Noah blinked and raised his eyes to Ronan. “Sorry,” he said, voice heavy with sleep. “I’m tired.” 

“You can sleep in your bed, then. Come on.” Ronan jostled him until he got up. They gathered their things and went down the fire escape, climbing back inside. There was no sign of Adam or Gansey as Ronan led Noah through the main room to Noah’s untouched room. 

Noah settled on the dusty bed, turning his gaze up to Ronan. He smiled. “When I wake up, can we get gelato?”

Ronan leaned on the doorway, resting his forehead on his forearm and grinning down at Noah. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Sure we can.”


	5. Disappearing Act

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Ronan, I’m sorry I ruined the body…” Noah told him. 
> 
> “Stop saying that.” Ronan grunted. “You didn’t ruin it. I just didn’t make it right.”

When Ronan awoke, his first thought was of the dull aching pain in his earlobes. His second thought was that Noah was sleeping in the next room over, in a living body, his mortal form returned to him through Ronan’s powers. Ronan surged out of bed, electric with excitement as he dressed and stepped out into the main room, going to pound on Noah’s bedroom door. “Wake up, shithead, let’s get some gelato!” 

Ronan heard nothing on the other side of the door. He rapped his knuckles again on the door. “Noah. Wake the fuck up.”

Still, there was silence. A groan from Gansey’s bed meant that Ronan’s ruckus had been effective to wake someone, if not Noah. Ronan turned the handle of the door and looked in, ready to shake Noah awake.

There was no one in the bed.

Ronan started at the place he had left Noah. The blankets were rumpled, as if someone had been there. But there was no tell-tale shape of a person under them, He strode in and tossed the covers back. Fine dust flew up with the flourish, and Ronan coughed, turning away, his mind reeling. “Noah? Noah!”

Gansey was in the doorway, staring at the bed and it’s strange contents. “What happened?” He asked blearily. 

“Noah fucking dissapeared.” Ronan said. He was still processing what lay before him. What the fuck had happened here?

“I’m sorry,” A voice, paper thin, whispered past his ear. Ronan spun to look. Noah was there, just the palest wisp of him in the dusty morning sunshine.

“What happened?” Ronan demanded. He couldn’t understand it. None of his other dream things had ever vanished like this. Then again, he had never made a dream thing to be inhabited by a ghost. This was uncharted territory.

“I don’t know.” Noah’s faint voice wobbled, and he covered his face with his hands. “I’m sorry, Ronan… you worked so hard and I ruined it…”

“No!” Ronan moved forward, embracing the apparition as best he could. Noah’s form felt like silk running over his hands, insignificant. He was getting fainter by the moment. “Noah. Noah, I don’t care. You didn’t ruin the body, don’t talk like that…”

Noah pressed himself against Ronan, before he was no longer with them. Ronan cursed and kicked the wall. What had he done wrong?

“The dust,” Gansey said. Ronan had forgotten he was there, he turned around to look. All that remained of Noah’s body was slipping away to nothingless, leaving the bed empty and spotless. Ronan’s brow furrowed as he watched, he looked to Gansey and Gansey looked back.

“I fucking hate this magical bullshit.” Ronan spat bitterly. 

“You can try again.” Gansey said, tone placiating. 

“Yeah? Can I, Gansey?” Ronan snarled. “Because it’s that easy right?”

Gansey held his hands up before him. “Take a breath, Ronan.” 

Ronan pushed him out of the way and stormed back to his room. He threw the door shut behind him, and fell into his bed, running his fingers hard over his scalp. Noah had been real and tangible, but he had fucked it up, and now Noah was upset and fainter than ever. Ronan rolled onto his side, trying to force his heart to calm and his breathing to slow. But sleep would not come to him in such a state of agitation. 

Giving up, he left his room and headed out to the BMW, throwing himself into the seat and pulling out of the parking lot, to drive until his mind was blank. 

Without realizing it, he found himself driving to Cabeswater. He didn’t think he would find answers there, but at least he could lay under the spreading forest canopy, and crush handfuls of sweet-smelling clover, and feel something other than this blinding anger and aching disappointment. He parked the BMW and walked the rest of the way to their entrance to Cabeswater. Maybe it was not a good idea to be here alone, but he was not in the mood for good ideas.

He stepped into the woods and felt some of his anger slip away, as the scent of the forest filled his lungs. He tread carefully along the natural paths of the woods, fingers touching the trees and listening as they greeted him in their strange voices. It was a comfort to hear their words, that mix of Latin and the other language. He could not sleep, but he could always come here, to the waking dream.

In time he reached a clearing, where the roots of the trees were covered with lush moss, a landscape of hills and valleys. The undergrowth of clover was blooming purple and white flowers, and it was here that Ronan lay down and let his breathing sync with the breaths of the forest. The trees swayed in the wind, Ronan breathed out. They relaxed in the calm, ronan breathed in. 

If he fell asleep here, what would happen? Ronan didn’t think of himself as easily spooked, but the thought crossed his mind that he might never wake from such a sleep. He could be the next Rip Van fucking Winkle. It didn’t sound so bad, to sleep forever in this quiet forest. 

“Ronan.” The voice came so soft that Ronan thought it was the trees again, their rustling leaves calling out to him. He ignored it. 

“Ronan.” The voice tried again.

Ronan’s brow furrowed. “Fuck off.”

“Ronan!”

Ronan opened his eyes and sat up, looking around for the voice. It was not the trees, after all, but Noah. In the time that Ronan had been laying there - he had thought it had only been a moment - the sunlight from above had dimmed to twilight, and the fireflies had come out. Cabeswater fucked with time, so it could only have been two minutes… or it could have been two days. This was why they were only supposed to come here with Adam, their guide in these unfamiliar waters. 

The voice was coming from Noah, who was kneeling beside him and looking down at him. He looked now the way Ronan had always known him - insubstantial, face marred by violence, wearing that damn Aglionby suit.

“Noah.” Ronan reached out instinctively, touching Noah’s arm. He almost felt substantial again, though he was still a ghost. 

“I thought you were dead or something.” Noah said. His eyes looked watery and he was wringing his hands.

“No, that’s you,” Ronan muttered. 

“Why are you sleeping in this creepy forest?” Noah asked, distressed.

Ronan shrugged, glancing around. Night time hadn’t made the forest creepy to Ronan, only more beautiful. The silvery moonlight cast the woods in pale shades, shadows deep and inky. Fireflies lit the undergrowth as they skimmed low over the ground. 

“Did Gansey send you to look for me?” Ronan asked. This was why Noah was so distressed, he knew now. But Ronan wasn’t bleeding this time.

“No.” Noah told him. “I came to find you myself. Ronan, I’m sorry I ruined the body…”

“Stop saying that.” Ronan grunted. “You didn’t ruin it. I just didn’t make it right.”

“I thought it was perfect.” Noah said mournfully. He shifted to sit beside Ronan, staring at his hands. 

Ronan watched Noah. Now that he was no longer a tangible body, Ronan realized how much had changed when he could briefly think of Noah as a living boy. Ronan had always had a soft spot for Noah - he was sweet and kind, but also a rebel. Ronan liked that. 

There were so many things that one could not do with a ghost. Like going for a drive and letting them take the wheel, and whooping as they disobey speed limits. Or goofing around in the grocery store, choosing a colour of hair dye to apply to their tangible locks. Like piercing their ear, and holding them when they look like they might faint. Or watching the sunrise as they doze on your shoulder.

“I’m going to make another one.” Ronan said gruffly. “Another body. I’ll make a hundred more, if that’s what it takes.”

Noah turned his head up to look at Ronan, hopeful.

“Come on.” Ronan said, standing up.

“Where are we going?” Noah asked.

“Out of here.” Ronan said, as he began to lead Noah back the way he had come. He hoped it was the way he had come. “I don’t want to dream in here.”


	6. Round Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We’re getting gelato,” Ronan told them.
> 
> Adam glowered at him. “I have to get to chemistry.”
> 
> Gansey tapped a finger on his watch to emphasize the point. 
> 
> Ronan growled. “See how I’ve got Noah here? See how he’s got a body, and he’s holding that phone? We don’t know if this one is gonna last. So get in, we’re getting gelato.”

They went back to the BMW. Ronan had parked it in full sun, and when he got in, the seat was barely warm. Though it had gone from day to night in Cabeswater, he had only been gone from the car for minutes. 

Noah climbed into the passenger seat. “Are you going to dream here?” He asked softly. 

Ronan felt that he could. His time in Cabeswater had relaxed him in a way that usually only alcohol could achieve. He drove the car down the road until he found a shady spot, and tipped his seat back, closing his eyes. “Don’t watch me,” he told Noah.

Ronan heard some shuffling. When he cracked his eye open, he saw Noah curled up in the passenger seat, his own eyes closed. Ronan shut his again, and let sleep come.

Noah was in his dream again. When Ronan found himself in the dream forest again, it was with Noah at his side, same as in waking life. “Noah,” he greeted him, relieved by his presence. It was easier to dream exactly what he wanted, Noah, when he had Noah with him. To keep him focused. To offer a reference. 

Again, Ronan worked to alter the image of Noah that stood before him. It hadn’t worked last time, but fuck it, maybe this time would be different. As he worked, he tried to think of how he could ensure this body wouldn’t disappear into dust. He didn’t even know how to start solving that problem. Maybe it was a fluke, that body had just been a dud. He prayed that was the problem. He prayed that he had not been wrong to give Noah hope. This had to be possible. Or at least, the kind of impossible that he could do. 

“Ready?” Ronan asked.

Noah dipped his head. 

Ronan woke up. His paralysis told him that it had worked. He was outside his body looking down, on his own sleeping form and the body nestled in his lap, Noah’s sleeping form. He looked, again, exactly as he had in life. It seemed that no matter what Ronan tried, his memories of Noah’s true appearance could not be overridden so easily.

He watched as the spirit of Noah in the passenger seat, looking paler than ever in the sunlight, climbed from his spot into Ronan’s lap, slipping seamlessly into the body. Ronan expected him to climb back into the passenger seat, but instead Noah lay his hands on Ronan’s cheeks and shook him gently. “Wake up, Ro…”

It took a moment longer for the feeling to come back in Ronan’s hands enough to brush Noah away. “I’m awake.” He mumbled through numb lips, opening his eyes. “Get off.”

Noah climbed off him, staring down at his hands. “...do you think this one will disappear too?”

“I don’t know,” Ronan said, putting his seat up again and starting the car. “But I’m not wasting time while we find out.”

Noah grabbed the edge of his seat as Ronan thrust the car into motion, speeding down the road. “Where are we going?” He squealed.

“Gelato,” Ronan said, lips curling in a smirk. “But first - we’re getting the others.” He flipped his phone over at Noah. “Text Gansey. Make him get Parrish. They’re skipping class.”

“Yes,” Noah gasped, catching the phone and fumbling with it.

By the time they pulled up at Aglionby, Gansey and Adam were standing at the gates, neither of them looking happy to be missing class. Ronan pulled up to them and rolled Noah’s window down, leaning over. “We’re getting gelato.”

Adam glowered at him. “I have to get to chemistry.”

Gansey tapped a finger on his watch to emphasize the point. 

Ronan growled. “See how I’ve got Noah here? See how he’s got a body, and he’s holding that phone? We don’t know if this one is gonna last. So get in, we’re getting gelato.”

They got in. Noah reached into the back to give them both fist bumps, which the others returned. Gansey’s smile was wild and joyful, Adam’s a cautious thing as always. As they drove to Mountain View High, Gansey and Adam discussed the best way to extract Blue from her classes, while Ronan drove and watched Noah out of the corner of his eye. Noah had never used a smartphone before. Ghost fingers didn’t register on the screen. Now, he was joyfully playing Candy Crush.

“Why can’t she just have a cellphone?” Gansey bemoaned, as their plans to find Blue in the school by less electronic means seemed unlikely to succeed. He caught the look Adam sent his way, and added quickly. “I don’t mean it like that. I just mean  — ”

“I know,” Adam said cooly. He got out of the car and shrugged off his Aglionby jacket, folding it and laying it on the seat. “I’ll go get her. I’ll fit in the most.”

As Adam headed into the school, Gansey leaned into the front seat. “So, you managed to dream another. Do you think you fixed the … problem?”

Ronan shook his head. “No fucking clue. I don’t even know where to start. So we’re gonna cram as much fun as possible into the next day, alright?”

“Mm.” Gansey rubbed his thumb over his lip, and checked his watch. “Do we have a day? When did you dream him the first time?”

Ronan shrugged. “Midnight.” He guessed hap-hazardly. 

“And he was gone before I went to school this morning.” Gansey continued. “That means we may not even have twelve hours.”

In the passenger's seat, Noah’s smile crumpled. Ronan glared at Gansey, then reached over and gently slugged Noah’s arm. “Hey. It’s 1 o’clock now. The next twelve hours are like, the best twelve hours. And who knows? Maybe you won’t vanish this time.”

“Maybe.” Noah said mournfully. He put Ronan’s phone aside and stared at his hands. Ronan redoubled his glare on Gansey, who looked appropriately shamed as he sunk back into the backseat. 

Someone knocked hard on Ronan’s window and he turned his head sharply to see Blue, who was glaring at him through the glass, one hand on her hip and the other raised to knock again. “Roll down this window!” She ordered.

Ronan did as told.

Blue reached in, poking him hard in the middle of the chest with her finger. “You! Can’t just interrupt my classes! You can’t just send Adam in to fetch me, like I’ve got nothing better to do than tag along with you boys!”

Ronan’s lip curled. “Sure seems that way. But whatever, you can go back to class.” It was hard to be annoyed at her, when he was so excited about introducing Noah’s new body. 

“Adam said you wanted to show me something.” Blue said, straightening up and crossing her arms. “This had better be /good/, Lynch.”

Ronan mirrored her crossed arms, turning his head to watch Noah scramble out of the passenger seat. “Yeah, I’d say it is.”

Noah rounded the hood of the car and threw himself at Blue, hugging her tightly.

“Noah, what  — ” Blue began, then her eyes went huge and she hugged him back. “Noah! You’re … you’re…”

“Ronan dreamed a body for me.” Noah said, his voice wavering as he buried his nose into her spiky black hair. “Mmm …”

Ronan watched them hug, fighting a grin. Adam had climbed back into the backseat, he and Gansey watched also. 

“Alright!” Ronan said loudly after a moment. “Let’s go! Gelato! Unless  — Sargent, you want to go back to class?”

Blue used her over-long sleeves to wipe her streaming eyes, smiling hugely. “You’re such an asshole.”


	7. The Best Twelve Hours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The clock was ticking, though there were no absolutes when it came to dreams.
> 
> Maybe there was no need to hurry, and this body would last forever. 
> 
> Or maybe it would be gone in five minutes. 

“I can’t. I can’t do it. Please, God, someone else do it.”

Ronan watched Gansey push away his gelato and slump back against the vinyl seat of their booth at the gelato parlour, covering his mouth as he burped.

“I can!” Noah grinned. He grabbed Gansey’s bowl and pulled it towards himself, digging his spoon in eagerly. Ronan had finished off his own bowl of gelato easily, as had Adam. Blue huffed softly and pushed her half-finished bowl of frozen yogurt toward Noah, too. 

“Time check.” Ronan ordered, leaning forward to rest his forearms on the table. 

Adam glanced at his watch. “Nearly two,” he reported. 

Ronan nodded. The clock was ticking, though there were no absolutes when it came to dreams.

Maybe there was no need to hurry, and this body would last forever. 

Or maybe it would be gone in five minutes. 

“We have this afternoon. What are we going to do? Sargent!”

Blue had raised her hand instantly. “My house. Backyard. We can play games and stuff.”

“Parrish?

Adam had lifted his hand to scratch his ear. “Huh? Oh. Swim? Somewhere?” 

“Dick.”

Gansey grinned. “What else? We look for Glendower.”

Blue booed at this suggestion. Ronan wagged his head in disappointment. “Czerny! What do you want to do?”

Noah set down his spoon and rubbed at his cheek, pensive. “Swim.” He agreed with a slow spreading grin.

Ronan grinned, slapping the table as he stood. “Then let’s fucking swim!”

Gelato was paid for and the teens piled back into the BMW. They drove to the outskirts of town, where the road bridged the river’s lazy progress through town, near the laundromat. Ronan parked and the group scrambled down the gravely bank, to the river's edge, where the rocks were flat and warmed by the sun. 

Ronan pulled his muscle shirt off, throwing it down on the rocks and shoving his distressed jeans down his hips. Normally he would be caught dead swimming in town like this, but Adam had suggested it and Noah had wanted it, so Ronan had to go along. 

Adam removed his Aglionby uniform with the utmost caution, folding his items of clothing and laying them out on the bank, far from the water for risk of the current snatching them. Ronan had not expected him to remove quite so much or to be quite so freckled, but he should have known better than to think Adam would let any of his precious uniform get dirty.

Gansey, who had no such qualms and was unlikely to strip down in any circumstance, removed his jacket and shoes and rolled his pant legs. He unloaded his pockets of their valuables and looped his tie around the base of a tree to keep it from the wind’s clutches. 

Ronan didn’t notice what Sargent was doing with her clothes, but he heard the splash of her entering the water. He followed, wading in and splashing at her.

Noah was still on shore, and Blue waved at him. “C’min, Noah, the water feels good!” 

“This is your chance to get that fucking uniform off!” Ronan encouraged. 

Noah grinned at them and took a couple steps back, then ran forward and leapt in, still fully clothed as he had been when Ronan dreamed him. He bobbed up, spitting river water and laughing at their expressions of surprise. “So what? I’m not a student there anymore.”

They spent an idyllic afternoon splashing in the cool river as the hot Virginia sun beat down on the town. Blue and Ronan competed to see who could hold their breath underwater the longest. Adam stretched out on the sun-warmed rocks and dozed, then slipped back into the water when his skin began to burn. Ronan and Adam took turns jumping off the bridge into the water, and even convinced Gansey to do it once. Ronan could feel the sunburn he was going to have already. He didn’t give a shit. 

As the sun grew lower in the sky and their arms ached from paddling, they lifted themselves from the water and sat together on the stones, shoulder to shoulder, knees bumping, all of them together. Ronan’s burnt pinkish skin brushed Adam’s freckles on one side, and Noah’s warm shoulder on the other. It was so strange for Noah to feel warm against him, and Ronan let their skin press together just to feel more. 

“I’m starving.” Gansey admitted, grabbing his watch from where he had left it on shore when they swam. “Has it really only been five hours since that gelato? Jesus.”

Blue started to get up from her spot beside Adam. “Let’s hit the convenience store.”

Adam rose too, reaching to pull his clothes back on now that the sun had somewhat dried him. “Sounds good to me.”

“I want to stay here a little longer.” Noah told them, turning to watch them dressing again. 

“We’ll bring food back.” Gansey promised him, as he pulled his pants back on and did up his belt.

“I’ll stay too.” Ronan told Noah. He didn’t feel like getting up, not yet. The sun was still warm and he felt completely at peace, so tired and hungry from their fun that he couldn’t think about those things that weighed him down. 

The others departed on foot, leaving Noah and Ronan sitting on the bank. Noah looked over at Ronan. At some point during their swim he had removed his soaked uniform, which lay drying on an adjacent stone. His skin was soft and pale, though he was also pinkish with a fresh sunburn. 

“How do you feel?” Ronan asked. He didn’t know if disappearing was something that Noah would feel coming, or if it would just happen.

Noah’s smile was soft. “I had a great time today.”

Ronan did not miss the non-answer. He turned slightly, facing Noah more directly and asking again. “How do you feel?”

Noah hugged his knees, looking down at the water. He shook his head slightly. 

“What does that mean?” Ronan demanded. “No, you don’t feel good? No, you don’t feel bad?”

“I just feel alive.” Noah whispered. “And it’s been so long since I felt that.”

Ronan relaxed, nodding as he gazed intently at Noah’s face. He had gotten so used to seeing his ruined cheek, that smudgy hollow where the first blow had fallen. Now that he saw Noah as he had been in life, he was more beautiful than ever.

“Ronan,” Noah said softly. His hand had fallen suddenly over Ronan’s where it lay on the stone. He squeezed Ronan’s fingers, expression distant. 

“Noah?” Ronan’s hand turned over, grabbing onto Noah’s. They held on.

“Ronan, I’m sorry,” Noah whispered. “Look away.”

“No,” Ronan growled. So Noah could feel it coming. Ronan could see, from the fear on his face, that he felt it now. The roar of the river had faded in Ronan’s ears, he could see nothing but that frightened face.

“Ronan!” 

“No, I won’t  — ”

Noah squeezed his eyes shut and threw his hand up, pushing Ronan’s cheek to force him to look away. Surprise froze Ronan a moment, as he felt the warm press of Noah’s palm against his skin, and by the time he resisted and turned to look again, the hand was gone. The body was gone. With only a minute’s warning, the whole dream thing had vanished into a dusting of silver ash, which the wind plumed up and the current swept away.

Ronan leapt to his feet, cursing as the breeze whipped away the last remains of his friend’s body. He looked around, trying to catch a glimpse of Noah’s spirit, but that was gone also. 

Frustration warred with sadness inside of Ronan and he began to curse, letting his anger spill out. Why wasn’t this working? He had never made something this big, never something for this purpose. He had told Noah that he could do it, he had given him so much hope. Maybe it had been stupid to even try.

“Ronan?” Ronan heard Gansey’s voice and turned, fists clenched at his side, to watch as his friends scrambled back down the bank of the river. 

“He’s gone,” Ronan spat. “He just fucking dissapeared. I’m doing something wrong.”

Adam and Gansey exchanged a glance while Blue stared around at the rocks, as if expecting Noah might pop out at any moment. She turned to Ronan again and said gently. “He had a lot of fun today. Ronan, maybe it isn’t the best idea to dream him a new body.”

“Don’t you want him alive?” Ronan snarled. He glared at the three of them. Why couldn’t they see that this was the solution, if he could only figure out how to do it.

“Of course I do!” Blue replied heatedly, eyes bright. “But…”

“If someone recognizes him, there’s going to be a lot of hard to answer questions.” Adam finished. 

“So fucking what!” Ronan pushed past them, grabbing his clothes and starting to dress again. The sun had dipped below the trees, and the air had the chill of approaching night. 

“This calls attention to you, Ronan.” Gansey said, in a gentle but firm voice, as if Ronan didn’t know this already. “Maybe… maybe you should give it a break. Maybe you shouldn’t try again.”

Ronan told them all what he thought of that, with all the best words in his arsenal. Dressed again, he climbed the slope and left them all behind. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These 7 chapters are the first 10,000 words of my fic, which is 25,000+ words long. I'll be posting the next two chapters July 5th, and then two new chapters every other day until the fic is fully posted. Please let me know what you think! Thanks again for reading!


	8. Dreams and Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Ronan,” Noah whispered. Not the body, but the spirit, who crouched over Ronan on the bed, silvery in the rainy morning light. He cupped Ronan’s cheeks, his fingers brushing the raised veins on his neck. “You’re awake, you’re awake.” 

To the rest of the group, it seemed that Ronan had stopped his attempts. He didn’t speak to them now about the Noah problem, and they all seemed relieved that Noah remained only a spirit once more. When he first returned after disappearing at the riverbank, Ronan had hugged him for several long moments, and let Noah use his energy to stay around as long as he could. He felt like a jackass for giving Noah so much false hope. Noah knew, as he always seemed to, of the tension in the group, and he seemed to know the reason too. A few nights after the second dream-body had vanished, he appeared in Ronan’s room, startling Ronan when he spoke into the darkness. “Are you gonna ever try again?”

“Jesus shit!” Ronan cursed, banging his head on his headboard as he jumped. He sat up, rubbing the crown of his head as he glared at the smudgy figure across the room. “What do you want?”

Noah approached and perched at the edge of Ronan’s bed. He shrugged, staring at Ronan with mournful eyes. “I want to be alive.”

Ronan sat up and bumped Noah’s shoulder with his fist. “...then I’ll try again.”

“Is it going to make Gansey and Adam mad?”

Ronan frowned. “Whatever. They don’t control me, and you shouldn’t let them control you.”

Noah let out a long sigh and nodded. 

From that point, Ronan used every dream as an opportunity to try and dream a new body for Noah. He tried so hard to keep it all in his mind at one time - the need for the body to last, to not look quite like Noah - and it never seemed to work. The night horrors in his dreams became more numerous, they followed him in the woods and chased him from his sleep with their long claws and snapping beaks. Ronan would wake gasping for air, and feel Noah’s cold hand laid on his brow. Jolting upright drenched in sweat was never a good way to wake, but he knew instantly that if he was moving, he had not brought anything back. Then he could collapse back into the mattress, let his breathing return to normal, before drinking a beer and trying it again. 

Tonight he dreamt of his father’s mask. It hung at eye level on a tree in this dream wood, the eyeholes shadowed in the twilight. Ronan knew he was not here for the mask, but he was having difficulty remembering what he was here for. Why was he here?

“This is cheating.” Orphan Girl spoke in Latin. Ronan noticed her suddenly at his side. It reminded him that he was dreaming, and why he was dreaming. Noah. He would find Noah. 

“Cheating.” She repeated. “Dreaming a dream thing.”

The mask had hung in their home at the Barns. Like so much else there, it was from his father’s head. “I’m not here for it.” He told her. “Have you seen Noah?”

She blinked up at him, unhelpful.

“Here. I bought you some chicken.” Ronan said. He had a box of greasy take out, which he gave to her to devour. 

“I think I’m a psychopomp.” Orphan girl told him through a mouthful. 

“I don’t even know what that means.”

He craned his neck to look around the woods, trying to ignore the messy sounds of her eating. 

She spoke again. “I think it means I’m a raven. That makes you a raven boy.”

Annoyance distracted Ronan from his task. He took the box of chicken from her and put it where she could not reach it. “Cabeswater’s gone.” 

“Far away isn’t the same thing as gone.” Ronan had been expecting Opal’s voice, but it was Noah instead. He stood at Ronan’s shoulder.

“Noah.” Ronan exhaled in relief. “Come on, let’s go.” He ordered him, reaching out for his hand. Noah was dressed, as always, in his Aglionby uniform. He had mud on his fingers, and Ronan knew without knowing how that it was mud from the forest floor where he had clawed and twitched as he died. He was looking at the mask hung on the tree, and without asking permission, he lifted it down from where it hung and held it before his face, the grotesque wooden mask covering his pale visage, his ruined cheek. 

Orphan Girl let out a terrible shriek of warning, hiding herself behind Ronan. He realized just as the mask covered that caved in cheek: he had never before dreamt of Noah with that earthly injury.

This was not Noah.

Ronan watched in horror as Noah began to change, the mask melding with his skin and flesh, the broken cheek repaired now but carved of wood, just like all of Noah. The air trembled around them, and Ronan knew the night horrors were coming. 

“Noah, take it off!” Ronan said. But Noah was still changing, the teeth of the mask were his teeth now, and they were sharp. Orphan Girl cried out as she clung to Ronan, but Ronan could do nothing. 

Ronan took Noah’s hand and said his name. 

And then Noah was on him. One hand was wrapping around Ronan’s throat, as the other clawed at the edge of the mask, trying to pull it away and stop the gruesome transformation. Ronan felt Noah’s fingers hook at his skin, trying to claw him apart like the night horrors. 

Orphan girl was begging that Ronan kill this monster, but Ronan knew he never could. Could never hurt Noah. 

Niall Lynch has taught Ronan to box, and he had once told his son:  _ Clear your mind of whimsy. _

Ronan cleared his mind of whimsy. 

Summoning his strength, he pulled the mask off the thing that was no longer Noah. It was so easy to pull away that he staggered back. Noah made a ruined sound, and Ronan looked up to see him stumble also, and fall to his knees, cowering before Ronan.

The mask in his hand was no longer a mask. It was a skateboard, and the edge of it was splattered with gore. And Noah was crumbling, his soft face marred by the fresh wound that had been the first of many, that had led to his death.

Ronan knew how this story went. He was not the killer. He threw the board down, feeling the air shake now with the beating wings of the approaching Night horrors. He could smell them. 

“Noah, Noah,” Ronan whispered, as Noah gasped and clawed at the ground, life leaking from his wounds. He cradled Noah’s head in his lap, trying to get control of this dream, to fix the damage so he could bring back Noah’s body and wake up before the night horrors got them. There was so much blood. 

Ronan cupped Noah’s cheeks, the whole one and the ruined one, gazing down into his scared blue eyes. “I’ll fix it. I’ll make it right.”

_ Please work. _

“Ronan!”

Ronan saw himself curled on his bed, and saw the body he held. A rush of pure relief went through him when he saw that the newly dreamed Noah was whole, though Ronan’s own hands were bloodied. The relief was overridden by the panic that still filled his bloodstream, burning through him with every violent beat of his heart. He could barely breathe. 

“Ronan,” Noah whispered. Not the body, but the spirit, who crouched over Ronan on the bed, silvery in the rainy morning light. He cupped Ronan’s cheeks, his fingers brushing the raised veins on his neck. “You’re awake, you’re awake.” 

Ronan blinked, and was no longer looking down on the scene, but instead seeing Noah through his own eyes. So close they could kiss. Noah’s pretty blue eyes locked on his own.

“I did it,” Ronan whispered. His voice felt hoarse, as if he had been screaming, not the dream Orphan Girl. 

Noah’s eyes darted to the new body that Ronan had made him, and he offered a shaky smile. “You did it…”

Ronan’s heart was slowing to its usual speed. He sat up, wiping sweat from his brow. His fingers were bloody and everywhere that he had touched the body, it was bloody also. Noah touched Ronan’s cheek, and his hand came away with a drop of blood on the finger. He held it up before Ronan. “Yours?”

Ronan shook his head. “Yours,” he whispered. He didn’t want to elaborate, and Noah didn’t press.

As he sat with Noah, finally starting to get his breath back, he heard it. A sound in the corner of the room. It was not a Chainsaw sound. It was the sound of a nightmare.

_ Tck-tck-tck-tck-tck. _

Noah stared down at him, his eyes huge. 

“What were you dreaming about?”


	9. A Moment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I never kissed anyone before,” Ronan told him. 
> 
> Noah’s laughter faded and he gave a patient smile. “I could tell.”
> 
> Ronan slugged him again, but he was laughing now too. “You’re secretly such a little shithead.”

There was no time to rejoice in the success of Ronan’s dream. Not now, as the huge shape loomed out of the shadowy corner of the room. Noah, always the wimp, was out the door in a second. Ronan stood his ground a moment, before following the spirit. He didn’t want another trip to the ER. 

In the doorway, he froze, glancing toward his bed. The newly formed body lay there, still and silent, not yet animated by Noah’s precense. He thought for a moment that he should bring it with him, to protect him, before remembering the truth of the night horror. It only wanted to kill him. So he left the dreamed body, praying that nothing would happen to it. He did take the time to scoop Chainsaw from her cage. She was part of him, and the Night horrors hated her too. 

Where had Noah - the real Noah - gone? Ronan slammed his bedroom door shut. He cast his gaze around for something to block the door, which was already being tested by the weight of the creature behind it. Ronan let his bird fly, and hastily removed books from one of Gansey’s shelves, throwing his shoulder against it and tipping it in front of the door. Gansey’s bed was empty and Noah was either gone or /gone/, so Ronan continued in his escape. Despite the urgency of the situation, his mind was still fogged by the images of the dream. The horrors that had formed in his subconscious. The night horror might kill him, but it was not the worst thing from that dream that could have been brought back. At least the Noah he had made had a face.

In the lower floor of the warehouse, Ronan stopped. Chainsaw had gotten here before him and she waited now, head cocked and eyes bright. He stepped into the center of the dim, empty room, and listened too. He could not hear the creature. Had it vanished into silver dust too?

Ronan heard a voice behind him, Gansey. “What are you doing down here?”

Ronan closed his eyes, letting out a slow breath. Now, he would have to tell Gansey. That his wounds had not been self-inflicted that night last year. He had lost control of his mind, and now he manifested his trauma to tear him apart at the seams. 

And now it was in their home. 

\---

Ronan still held the box cutter that he had used to slice the night horror’s throat. He stood in the wreckage of his bedroom, feeling like he was made of nothing but taut muscles and destructive ideas, and stared at Gansey, who was perched on the edge of Ronan’s bed. He had a haunted look about him that Ronan recognized from the mirror, and though he seemed capable of placing obscure latin quotes, Ronan wasn’t sure he was okay. 

Gansey cleared his throat softly, casting his gaze around the ruined room. When it landed on the newly dreamt body, his breath caught and he said. “ _ Ronan _ .”

Ronan looked at the body too. It was still there, and it seemed untouched by the chaos the nightmare had caused. “Oh, yeah.” He said, sitting himself on the edge of the bed and touching the body’s warm cheek. 

“I thought you weren’t going to do this again,” Gansey murmured.

Ronan slipped his arms under Noah’s body, lifting him up and holding him against his chest. He looked around for the spirit of Noah, but clearly the fight had been too much for him. He was gone. Ronan addressed Gansey. “Yeah, whatever. I never agreed to anything.”

Gansey’s expression was not angry, rather it was hopeful. “Do you think… do you think it’s different this time?” He asked with caution, eyeing the body.

Ronan didn’t know. The previous failures sat heavily in the pit of his stomach, drowning all the hope he had once had. At this point, he kept going only because it had seemed so perfect, so easy. Maybe if he kept at it, it would turn out right one of these times. 

Gansey displayed the ruin in the room with an open handed gesture. “This can’t happen. This can’t happen, to bring a dead boy back to life. Ronan, this could kill you.”

“You think I don’t know that,” Ronan snarled. “ _ Not _ trying is gonna kill me too. Back the fuck off.”

Gansey rose up from the bed, the hurt that crossed his face for an instant quickly erased. With one final look around the ruined room, he made his way to the door and stepped out, closing the door gingerly behind him. Deep scratches marred the back of it, inflicted by dreamt talons. Ronan sunk down on the edge of the bed, still cradling Noah’s body, and closed his eyes.

\---

He wasn’t sure how he fell asleep again, but he woke knowing that he had not dreamt. He thought that he had only closed his eyes for a second, but he found himself slumped sideways onto tattered pillows, still holding Noah’s body close to him. And as he sat up, taking in the damage again with the aid of daylight, the body of Noah sat up too. Ronan jolted, but Noah grabbed his hand. “Shh. It’s me! It’s just me, Ronan.”

“Oh,” Ronan muttered, as his body deployed the unneeded adrenaline. After the night he’d had, he was surprised he had any left. Noah squeezed Ronan’s fingers, and he felt slightly better. 

“Thank you for my new body,” Noah whispered, pressing his shoulder to Ronan’s. “I love it.”

“It’ll be gone in a few hours,” Ronan muttered, watching Noah’s fingers over his own hand.

“That’s okay,” Noah whispered. His voice was even smaller than usual, and when Ronan looked over, he saw that Noah had his head down. “I only need a moment.”

Before Ronan could ask, Noah’s head bobbed up and their forehead collided. Ronan reeled back, rubbing the spot and staring down at Noah, who had already ducked his head again. He was blushing, which was a strange thing to see on Noah. Ghosts could not blush, but clearly dream bodies inhabited by ghosts could. 

“Sorry,” Noah peeped. 

“What-?” Ronan lowered his hand. “Czerny, were you trying to kiss me?”

If Noah were a ghost, this would be about the time that he vanished into thin air. But he had a body now, so instead he shrugged and twisted his hands in his lap, looking miserable. 

“...give a guy some warning.” Ronan said. The adrenaline was back, spreading through him as he picked up Noah’s hand again and leaned close.

And he kissed him.

When they broke apart, Ronan put his arm around Noah’s shoulders, and hugged him too. “I’m skipping school. We’re going driving. You in?”

Noah nodded, happily returning the hug. In this moment, Ronan didn’t give a shit that the night horror had destroyed his entire room, or that Gansey was mad, or even that this body would likely not last. It didn’t matter - Noah had kissed him, had kissed him first, and Ronan’s heart was revving like it did when he raced, only it was  _ better _ . It wasn’t just racing. It was soaring.

\---

The hours seemed to speed by them that day as they tore around the countryside in the BMW. Ronan let Noah drive, and Noah rolled his window down and whooped as he sped along the roads. It was gratifying to watch Noah in the driver's seat again, letting out that wild side of him as he gripped the gear shift with one hand and the wheel with the other, the wind making his hair a tousled mess. Ronan cranked the radio up and they listened to all the most vapid pop songs of the summer and Noah sang along and Ronan couldn’t stop grinning. Lunchtime brought them to a gas station, which Ronan entered alone and emerged with hot dogs, Dr. Pepper, chips, and candy of every variety he could carry. They ate until they were stuffed, then lay on the hood of the car under the shade of tree cover, and spoke about things that they should have brought up a long time ago.

“I thought you liked Adam,” Noah said, idly chewing on the end of a twizzler and gazing over at Ronan.

Ronan watched the dragonflies that whizzed by above them. “I do. Yeah. I don’t know. Can’t I like more than one person?”

“I like Gansey,” Noah peeped, and then went very red when Ronan looked at him. He smiled apologetically. “And Blue.”

“Slut,” Ronan said, slugging Noah’s arm lightly and stealing the twizzler from him. Noah curled towards Ronan, laughing delightedly.

“I never kissed anyone before,” Ronan told him. 

Noah’s laughter faded and he gave a patient smile. “I could tell.”

Ronan slugged him again, but he was laughing now too. “You’re secretly such a little shithead.”

“I know.” 

They kissed again under the shade of the trees, and Ronan hardly noticed the windshield wiper digging into the small of his back or the bugs zipping around them, because Noah’s lips felt so nice against his and he made perfect little noises when Ronan did something he liked. 

Of course Noah disappeared again. But this time, he did it while they sat on the hood of Ronan’s car, gazing up at the milky way silhouetted by the softened peaks of the Virginia mountains. Noah tucked his head under Ronan’s chin, and Ronan put his arm around him. At first it was strange, uncomfortably intimate, but they settled into it. By the time the bugs started to bite and the breeze began to cool, Ronan found he didn’t want to separate from him. He was so lost in the stars above that he barely noticed Noah shifting in his arms to kiss his cheek, before he felt the warmth of him fade away as his body vanished. 

Ronan watched the silver dust dissipate into the night sky, joining the splash of celestial bodies that adorned the heavens, and allowed himself to cry. For the friends separated by time. For whatever they could have had, if Noah had not been killed or if Ronan was better at dreaming. He prayed that he could fix this, and that Noah would forgive him if he couldn’t. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2 more chapters, as promised! Look forward to the next update on July 7th!


	10. To the Streets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “...are you gonna race that Kavinsky creep?” Noah asked.
> 
> “Yeah.” Ronan said, feeling no shame in the statement, only a thrill of excitement. He had the Camaro. He was invincible. He could not lose.

Ronan sat in The Pig, with his feet on the clutch and break, his hand on the key, feeling the low rumble beneath him. It had worked. The keys he had dreamt had worked, and Gansey was gone, and there was nothing stopping him from putting this vehicle on the road. 

His phone buzzed suddenly against his leg, and he extracted it from his pocket to read the text across the screen. Kavinsky.

_ my new wheels will blow you away. See you tonite @ 11. _

Ronan scrambled out of the driver's seat and slammed the door behind him. He banged up the stairs to the second floor of Monmouth, each footfall shaking dust from the ceiling as he threw the door open and went to his room. The night before he had dreamt of Adam and Kavinsky, but woke up holding Noah’s body, which the spirit had promptly occupied. Gansey never came into his room, so it was easy to avoid detection in the morning. And now Ronan had Noah, alive, and he had the Camaro keys, and he had an invitation from Kavinsky to race. It was shaping up to be a fucking fantastic day. 

“Noah.” Ronan shook Noah’s shoulder, leaning over him. 

Noah opened his eyes slowly, blinking and reaching a fist up to rub sleep away. He was just as bare as he had been when Ronan dreamt him, and Ronan could see the lovebites he had made on Noah’s collarbone, bruising faintly against Noah’s pale skin. He spoke groggily, “Yeah?”

“Get up. I gotta show you something,” he ordered Noah, then kissed his forehead quickly before turning to get clothes that might fit him. He dug out some jeans and a t-shirt, while Noah got up slowly and nearly fell over trying to get into boxers. Ronan tossed the other clothes at him and let Noah dress, feeling his pulse beating fast in his ears. He was going to drive the Camaro. For the first time ever, he would control her. 

Noah sat on the edge of the bed to cuff the too-long jeans, looking up at Ronan. “You look like trouble. What did you do?”

Ronan grinned. “Nothing yet. C’mon.” He said, grabbing Noah’s hand and pulling him along, back out to the lot.

“Woah.” Noah said, as Ronan slid into the Camaro and revved the engine. “Gansey left the keys?”

“Yeah.” Ronan snorted. “And a pig just flew by. No, shithead, I dreamt them.”

“Ooh…” Noah said, climbing into the passenger seat and getting comfortable. “Ronan, I don’t know about this…”

“What’s to know?” Ronan asked, running his fingers lovingly over the wheel. “We take her for a spin, we fill her up, we bring her back like nothing happened. Gansey won’t know. Alright?”

Noah was chewing his lip, and Ronan was getting the feeling that his plans might be thwarted by Noah’s moral compass. He reached over, squeezing Noah’s hand tightly. “Come on, baby,” he growled. “You’ll get to drive, too. Don’t you want to be like Gansey? Don’t you want to try and tame this damn Pig?”

Noah’s lips parted and he looked dubious a moment longer, before lifting his chin. “Yeah,” he decided, and then grinned and said it louder. “Yeah. I want to try. But we’re bringing it right back and we’ll never do it again, right?”

Ronan grinned, tracing an X over his heart. “Cross my heart.” 

Noah was looking more excited by the second. “Right now?” He demanded.

“‘Course not right now. Everyone round town knows who this car belongs to. We don’t want someone seein’ us and telling Dick, alright?”

Noah nodded quickly. “But I might not be around for long.”

Ronan leaned over to kiss his cheek, squeezing his hand tightly. “We have three days with the car. I’ll make it happen, alright, baby? You’ll get to drive this car.”

Noah ducked his chin, smiling as he went pink. “Okay,” he agreed softly.

“Okay,” Ronan echoed. He pulled the keys out and shoved them in his pocket, getting up out of the car and stretching his back. “I have shit to do today, but I’ll come back and get you when I’m done.”

Noah got out of the car, closing the door behind him and resting his forearms on top of the car. “And then we drive?”

Ronan watched him over his shoulder, grinning slyly. “And then we drive.”

\---

That evening, after the chaotic afternoon at The Barns with Matthew, Ronan picked Noah up as promised and they tried out the Camaro. They pushed it to its limits, and cursed at the poor steering control, and played the tapes that Gansey had in the cupholder. They took turns driving it, pulling over every now and then to switch drivers. 

At a quarter to eleven, Noah was still whole and present, sitting in the driver’s seat with his hands on the wheel. Ronan had nearly lost track of time, but he remembered now, and grabbed his phone. “Czerny! Back to Henrietta. We have an engagement.” 

“Huh?” Noah asked, but he took the next turn to get them home. “...are you gonna race that Kavinsky creep?”

“Yeah.” Ronan said, feeling no shame in the statement, only a thrill of excitement. He had the Camaro. He was invincible. He could not lose.

Noah slowed the car, glancing over at Ronan. “Ronan, no. Come on. You said we’d just fill it up and put it back in the lot, and Gansey would never know!”

“Noah…” Ronan growled, reaching over and putting his hand on Noah’s knee, pressing down slightly to get the car back up to speed. “He still won’t know. Come on… one race, and we’ll leave that fucker in the dust. I just want to see the look on his face…”

Noah pouted, watching out the window as he drove them into town. After several moments of silence, sans the sounds of the Pig struggling to breathe, Noah said, “I don’t want to watch you die.”

“You won’t.” Ronan dismissed instantly, checking his phone. “Left here, and pull up before those street lights.”

Noah did as directed, still looking unhappy about it. He turned to face Ronan in his seat. “I’ll get Gansey.”

Ronan looked back at Noah. It was hard to focus, when Kavinsky could show up any moment. “We’re both in deep shit if Gansey finds us driving the car.”

“How long until Kavinsky gets here?” Noah asked. His gaze flicked nervously around the street, as if fearful he might be spotted. 

Ronan laid his hand over Noah’s, warm and alive tonight, and spoke gently. “Noah. You’re starting to piss me off.”

Headlights flooded the street from behind them, and both boys turned around to look. A white Mitsu, just like the previous one, pulled up beside them. Behind the wheel, Joseph Kavinsky.

Kavinsky looked across at them, staring for a long moment before knocking his sunglasses down his nose and staring some more at the boy in the driver’s seat. Then he tipped his head back and cackled a laugh. “Lynch! You’ve changed!”

“Whatever, asshole.” Ronan said. “Noah. Move it. I gotta drive.” 

“No,” Noah said softly.

“No?” Ronan demanded. “Noah, quit joking around.”

“Uh oh…” Kavinsky drawled, grinning as he watched them squabble. “Did you dump Dick? Is this your new boytoy, Lynch?”

Ronan bared his teeth at Kavinsky. “Noah. Fucking move,” he ordered. 

Noah stayed put resolutely. Ronan felt his frustration rising. A glance in the mirror showed the rest of the dream pack pulling up to watch the show. Ronan was going to be humiliated unless Noah moved his ass. “Brought the whole family,” he commented to Kavinsky.

“You know me,” Kavinsky replied. “I just hate to be alone. So, are you gonna fuck that old lady you’re in, or are you just gonna hold her hand?”

Ronan took hold of Noah’s wrist. “Please,” he said to him quietly. 

“Ronan.” Noah looked up at him seriously. “Don’t. Gansey’ll kill you.”

“You do it, then,” Ronan whispered. “Be alive. Come on, Noah. Don’t fuck this for me.”

Noah glanced across at Kavinsky, fearful. “He scares me.”

“Come on, you bitch!” Kavinsky roared across the space between their cars. “I didn’t come here to sit around!”

Ronan grabbed Noah’s hands, placing them on the wheel as he shouted across to Kavinsky. “You gonna race with those shades on, you Bulgarian mobster Jersey trash piece of shit?”

“Ronan!” Noah protested. 

“Either I race or you race, we’re not fucking backing down!” Ronan hissed back at him.

“Lynch, get your bitch in line.” Kavinsky said, sounding bored. “I thought this was going to be you and me, not me and this little fag. Can you even drive, prettyboy?” He called to Noah.

“He can,” Ronan snarled. He leaned over Noah, to better address Kavinsky. “What’s going to happen is we’re going to beat  _ that _ car and then I’m going to get out of  _ this _ car and beat the shit out of you.”

“Three-hundred-twenty horses say you’re wrong, man. But keep dreaming,” Kavinsky replied, idly stretching his neck. 

“Noah, you’re gonna drive like you were fucking made to do it, alright,” Ronan growled in his ear, rage pumping through his system. “I know you’ve done this before. Don’t play the saint just because you’re dead. If you want to stay in that seat, you’re gonna prove you deserve it.”

Noah flexed his fingers on the wheel. “Ronan. I have a super bad feeling.”

“You’re gonna be great,” Ronan promised him. “Or you could move the fuck over and let me do it.”

Noah didn’t shift. Ronan slumped back in his seat, switching off the struggling AC and watching the traffic light ahead of them. “Wait for the green,” he instructed.

Noah’s voice was soft, his focus on the lights intense. “I know.”

Ronan saw Noah’s knee dip the slightest degree, felt the car tremble as the engine roared higher. The light over the opposing street was yellow. The one above them was red. Ronan was caught for a moment in the beauty of Noah, sitting in Gansey’s throne, his pale brows furrowed and his hand tight on the gearshift. 

Then the lights were green, and they were off. Ronan’s stomach swooped with joy at the acceleration, and the primal laugh that he knew to be Kavinsky’s. The Mistu was out first but the Camaro was after it like a shot, gaining, accelerating as Ronan knew it could. Ronan grabbed hold of Noah’s over the gearshift, guiding him to that place between second and third gear, which made the car move the way God intended. Ronan whooped with joyful, wild laughter. Noah was grinning too, all his fear erased by the thrill of winning. 

Because they were winning. The Mitsu was sinking back, and they were speeding ahead. Ronan could taste it, the victory that awaited them. They were gaining a lead, and nothing could stop them now.

But something was wrong.

Ronan felt time slow as Kavinsky’s Mitsu pulled up, closer and closer to The Pig. His window was rolled down, and Ronan heard saw his lips shape the words - “Fuck you.” - before the Mitsu burst forward and left the Camaro behind. Ronan’s gaze snagged on Kavinsky’s middle finger, waving out his window. 

Ronan pushed Noah’s hand forward on the shift, milking the car for all it had. It was no use. The Mitsu was pulling further and further ahead, and they had lost. 

“ _ Impossible! _ ” Noah shouted.

And now the Mitsubishi was gone, and it was only the Camaro, and Ronan and Noah together inside. As the smell of burning rubber replaced the rush of cool night air, Noah turned to Ronan. “Can we please go home now?”

Ronan stared out at the last spot the Mitsubishi had been, feeling all his happiness draining away.

“Please,” Noah said again. 

As Ronan was turning to look at Noah, he caught movement in one of the mirrors. And then, before he could do anything, one of his own night horrors swooped out of the darkness, and landed on the pristine hood of The Pig.

“Drive!” Ronan shouted, and Noah did as told. The car accelerated and both men were thrown back against their seat as the engine roared. Ronan’s eyes were fixed on the night horror’s eye, which peered at him through the windshield. Cracks were beginning to spiderweb from the point where its nightmare talons had made contact. 

Noah struggled to steer while the creature blocked his line of sight. He was pale as his ghost self, gripping the steering wheel for dear life. “I can’t get it off!”

The Camaro shuddered violently and both boys whipped their heads around to find another night horror had landed on the back. It stared at them through the glass, eyes red under the streetlights they passed. 

“Noah, the road!” Ronan barked, grabbing the wheel and jerking them straight again. 

“How do we get them off?” Noah asked, turning his attention back to what little he could see of the road beyond the flapping feathers. 

Ronan shook his head. He had no fucking clue what to do about this, no clue whatsoever. The sound of talons on metal was eating him alive.

And then, suddenly, the car was full of smoke. 

No - Ronan turned his head, looking to the driver’s seat. Only when he saw it empty did he recognize the silver dust for what it was - the last remains of Noah’s dreamt body. Ronan barely had time to register this before there was an almighty crack, and pieces of the shattered windshield caved in, aided by those wicked talons. Ronan threw himself across into the driver’s seat and slammed his foot down on the brake, an action that robbed the steering wheel of any control it had once had. He twisted it, struggling to remain on the road, but it was in vain. Only seconds after he had vacated the passenger seat - though with the adrenaline in his system, slowing time, it seemed like hours - he watched the space crumple as the front of the Camaro met the telephone pole. 

Ronan sat in a daze, feeling the impact of the crash and breathing in the acrid fumes that the car bled out in its final moments. A noise roused him from his stupor, and he stared up at the night horror. It sat atop the car, leaning down to stare at him through the cobweb of cracks. The windshield made a warning noise, and Ronan knew it was a haresbreathe from caving in. 

Ronan was about to die. He could not move, much the same as when he woke from a dream. He could do nothing to defend himself. 

The creature hissed, and Ronan’s blood chilled. It leaned forward. It would break the glass.

And then there was a sound outside, and both Ronan and the night horror turned their heads to watch the arrival of the white mitsubishi. And the driver. The car came to a stop, and Kavinsky extracted something from below his seat, and aimed it at the horror. Ronan ducked for cover, as the shot rang out. One. Two. He fired five 6 shots, and when Ronan raised his head, he saw nightmare gore splattered across the shattered windshield. He climbed out of the Camaro, and stared at the dead monstrosity on the hood, and then at the living monstrosity grinning at him out of the Mitsu.

“Try to keep up, Lynch,” Kavinsky said. He sounded slimy and pleased with himself, chrome gun still hanging from his grip. He pointed to the empty, half-demolished car. “Say… where’s your bitch?” 


	11. Twice the Fun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kavinsky was still standing there, watching Ronan in the new car, grinning. Ronan rolled his window down and leaned out. “Hey, asshole,” he called to him, tipping his chin up. “How do you dream a person?”

Ronan sat in the brand-new dreamed Pig. His stomach was full of beer and Twizzlers, his head full of the realization of why Cabeswater had disappeared. Why Noah had disappeared in the Dollar City. Why Noah couldn’t stay with him for a whole conversation, why he flickered on and off like a dying flashlight, why he seemed to be fading.

Kavinsky was still standing there, watching Ronan in the new car, grinning. Ronan rolled his window down and leaned out. “Hey, asshole,” he called to him, tipping his chin up. “How do you dream a person?”

Kavinsky swaggered over to the window and leaned in to talk to Ronan, their faces inches apart. He stank, but Ronan was sure his own smell must be just as ripe. “A person, huh? Did you kill someone? Was it dear old _Dicky_?”

“I didn’t fucking kill anyone,” Ronan flexed his fingers on the old-fashioned steering wheel of the Camaro. Even after wrecking the original, he still had the urge to pull out onto the streets and find some danger in this vehicle. He resisted the desire. Who knew if he could make another one? Besides, a new body for Noah was the most important thing now that disaster had been averted. “Someone else did.”

Kavinsky tipped his head to the side, pondering. “Haven’t you ever dreamed a person before?” He asked.

“It doesn’t fucking work when I do it. It doesn’t stick.” Ronan snapped. Being with Kavinsky this long was exhausting, or maybe it was the lack of real food and the excess of substances. “Can you help me dream a person?”

“What are you looking for, are you trying to replace someone?”

Ronan lowered his hands from the wheel and ran his fingers over the dashboard. It was even a little dusty, like the real Pig. “I need a body to hold a ghost.”

“Woah, hold up,” Kavinsky tapped the fingers of one hand against the palm of the other, a time-out gesture. “A _ghost_? What the fuck is this? Ghosts are fucking real?”

Ronan pointed out into the field of dreamt Mitsubishis. “You can do all this shit but you can’t believe that ghosts are real?”

“Fair point,” Kavinsky conceded. He knocked his sunglasses down his nose and rubbed his bloodshot eyes. “Fuck, I don’t know how to make a body to hold a ghost. I just do replacements, man.”

Ronan growled in frustration. “Fine, you can’t fucking help me. I’m going.”

“Hey, did I fucking say I couldn’t help you?” Kavinsky asked. “Just because I don’t know how to do it doesn’t fucking mean I can’t try and figure it out. Are you this damn fiesty with Dick? I see why he likes that Parrish kid better, now.”

Ronan’s temper flared right up. “Shut the fuck up. If you’re going to help me, fucking help me.”

Kavinsky rounded the car and opened the passenger side door, falling into the bucket seat and digging out a couple more pills. “Let’s try it. Let’s see if we can make this body.”

Ronan took the proffered pill between his fingers, feeling unsure about the plan. “I’ve tried bringing it back before, but every time, the body just lasts a while and then…” He struggled to find the words. “Fades out. Goes away. I don’t know.”

“I guess you’re doing it wrong,” Kavinsky said, watching him closely. “When you make the body, does it do shit on its own, even without the…ghost?” He said the last word with a mocking lilt, as if he still didn’t believe that ghosts were real.

Ronan thought about it. “It breathes and stuff. But it doesn’t wake up until he controls it.”

“Like possession?” Kavinsky asked with a laugh, then narrowed his eyes. “ _He_? Who is this fucking ghost?”

Ronan shrugged. “A friend of mine.” Kavinsky continued to look suspicious, so Ronan pressed on. “Yeah, it’s like possession. The body is, like, a puppet. Or a glove. He gets inside it, and he can control it.”

“Fucked,” Kavinsky observed.

“Whatever,” Ronan said. “The problem is, after a few hours, the body disappears.”

Kavinsky scratched his chin, looking pensive. “What if he didn’t get inside the body? Would it still disappear? Does any of your other dream shit ever disappear?”

“No.”

“Then maybe it’s the fucking ghost’s fault,” Kavinsky pointed out.

Ronan fiddled with the keys in the ignition of the Camaro. “When he possesses my bird, this doesn’t happen. That’s how we got the idea for his body.”

“Yeah?” This interested Kavinsky. “The bird, is it awake before he gets inside it? Or is it sleeping?”

“She’s fucking awake. She’s like a normal bird.” Ronan said. “Man, you’ve fucking seen her. The raven.”

“Fuck, that’s a dream? I thought you raided a nest,” Kavinsky commented with a laugh. He pointed a finger at Ronan. “Maybe you need a body that’s awake when you dream it.”

Ronan tipped his head back against the headrest. “…I don’t know how to do that. When I dream, he’s awake and he’s alive. But when I bring him back… he’s asleep. He doesn’t wake up until Noah – the ghost – takes over.”

Kavinsky rolled his window down and pointed out at the other Camaro, the failure, the one without an engine. “The bodies you’re making are like that.” He said. He slapped the dashboard of the Camaro they sat in currently. “You need a body like _this_.”

Ronan looked out at the other Camaro. It ran, but it didn’t have an engine. The bodies he dreamt breathed, but they didn’t have… something. Something that Chainsaw did. “Yeah? The body needs an engine?”

Kavinsky wagged a finger at him. “Don’t be literal about this, or things could get fucking messy. I didn’t dream replacement Kavinsky Senior right the first time. Like my Mitsus – it took some fucking practice.”

Ronan looked over at Kavinsky. “Did the copies disappear?”

“No they fucking didn’t. They were just not right. Had to get rid of them and try again.” His smile was twisted and cruel. Ronan’s thoughts took a dark turn, thinking of what else might be hidden in this field. Kavinsky continued, “So I have a lot of fucking practice dreaming a body with an _engine_. I could dream up your fucking ghost boy.”

“No. No way. You don’t fucking know anything about him,” Ronan argued.

“I don’t have to, bitch. We take these pills–” He lifted one of the green pills up and looked over his shades at Ronan, one eyebrow raised. “We meet in the _secret place_. And you can show me what the fuck you want your boy to look like. And I’ll bring him back. _Engine included_.”

Ronan hesitated, staring at the little pill. Could this seriously work? He remembered how excited Noah had been when he had first had the body, how jubilant and living he had been. How it felt to hold Noah’s body, tangible and real. To kiss his warm lips. Ronan held up his own pill. 

“Yeah,” He agreed roughly. “But if you fuck this up, I’m going to knock your teeth out.”

Kavinsky grinned like a devil. He pressed the green pill to his lips, kissing it. “Save that talk for the bedroom, _sweetheart_ ,” he cooed.

They swallowed the pills. Once again, Ronan was thrust into the dream forest. It was a strained and chaotic landscape, and he did not see Orphan Girl. He waded through the nightmare foliage, looking around for Kavinsky. He didn’t want to call for him, and risk making a new Kavinsky. The world could only handle one.

“Over here, Lynch!” Kavinsky shouted. Ronan saw him through the trees and made his way toward him. The trees hated Kavinsky, and they hated Ronan, and they hated him more for going towards the other. The murmur of leaves became a rasping hiss, angry. Kavinsky ignored it and asked, “Where’s your boy?”

“Give me a second,” Ronan said. He thought of Noah, focused on the living image of Noah he had looked up in old Aglionby yearbooks. His rosy, soft cheeks. His fair hair. His enthusiasm and zest for life.

“Ronan?” A soft voice made its way to them, and Ronan’s eyes snapped open. Noah stood nearby; half hidden behind a tree. He looked frightened of Kavinsky. Ronan approached him, extending his hand for Noah to take.

“Don’t be scared. He’s going to help,” Ronan told Noah. Kavinsky came closer, too, and Noah tugged, as if wanting to break away from Ronan to hide from his companion.

“What’s fucking wrong with him?” Kavinsky asked, sneering as he watched Noah tug.

“You’re scaring him, asshole,” Ronan snapped. “Noah, please – he’s going to help.”

“I don’t…” Noah whimpered. “Want…”

Kavinksy reached out and grabbed Noah’s wrist, and Noah’s expression changed. He stopped fighting and instead blessed Kavinsky with the innocent, totally trusting smile that he usually reserved for Ronan or Gansey. Ronan’s gut twisted with uncertainty. Did he want Noah to be trusting Kavinsky?

“Let go of him,” Kavinsky ordered. Ronan glanced at Noah’s docile expression. He kept hold. Kavinsky looked at him, “Let go, or I can’t fucking bring him back.”

Ronan let go. Kavinsky smirked, and suddenly, he and Noah’s copy were gone from the forest. The trees pressed in on Ronan, who stood alone, and he knew it was time to leave. Without taking anything, he forced himself to wake.

Ronan found himself back in the front seat of the Pig. He had brought nothing back and so he was not paralyzed, he was able to turn his head and look over at Kavinsky. What he saw made him think, _God, I’ve fucked up._

Kavinsky sat there in the passenger’s seat, and Noah sat in his lap. A perfect copy of Noah, with his hair and his eyes and his uniform and his soft smile, except he was using that smile on Kavinsky, which made it so far from perfect that Ronan felt sick. But his eyes were open, his body moved. He was not asleep. This Noah had an engine, and that meant that he might last. “Noah,” Ronan said, voice rough. “C’mere.”

Noah didn’t even look at him. He was gazing at Kavinsky as if the boy had hung the sun in the sky. Kavinsky grinned and looked over at Ronan. “Hey, if he likes it here, I’m not complaining.”

Ronan scoffed. He reached out and grabbed Noah’s arm. “Baby, come here.” He told him, and Noah finally looked at him, but didn’t move.

“ _Baby_?” Kavinsky’s attention snapped to Ronan. “The fuck, Lynch. I thought you guys were friends.”

Ronan felt his cheeks heating. “So what?” 

Kavinsky didn’t look disgusted, he looked angry. With a rough shove, he pushed Noah off his lap at Ronan. “You want my help dreaming a car for Dick, fine, whatever. But you used me to fucking dream yourself this gay fucking bitch – fuck you, Lynch, fuck you.” He threw the door of the car open and climbed out, slamming it. The car shook once for the slam, then jolted again as Kavinsky kicked it.

Ronan knew he shouldn’t have slipped up and called Noah by his pet name in front of Kavinsky, but Kavinsky’s reaction hadn’t been what he expected. He settled Noah back into the passenger seat, disturbed that Noah was still gazing out the window at Kavinsky with that sickening look of adoration. “Whatever, man. You’ve got issues. I’m going.”

Kavinsky stared at Ronan through the window of the pig, totally ignoring the simpering look Noah was sending him. “You’re shitting me.”

“I’ll send flowers,” Ronan said, bringing the car to life. He leaned over to buckle Noah into the seat, ignoring how much closer it brought him to Kavinsky’s face.

“You’ve got this little bitch, now you don’t want me anymore?”

“This was fun,” Ronan said. “Time for big-boy games now, though.”

“I helped you, Lynch.”

Ronan looked over at Noah. He wanted to get him away from Kavinsky as soon as possible, get the real Noah into this body, see if it worked.

“You prefer this fucking cherry to _me_ , Lynch? To _me_!” Kavinsky said.

Ronan released the parking brake.

Kavinsky threw up a hand like he was going to hit something, but there was nothing but air. “You are _shitting me_.”

“I never lie,” Ronan said. He was confused by Kavinsky’s anger, his indignation. Ronan had asked for help and Kavinsky had helped him. They had never been friendly. These days spent together had proved again and again to Ronan that it should remain that way. Kavinsky’s anger made no sense, it was focused suddenly on Noah, not Gansey. “Wait. You thought – it was never going to be you and me. Is that what you thought?”

Kavinsky glared at Ronan with a heat so intense, Ronan could feel it warming his cheeks. “There’s only with me or against me.”

 _With him_? Like, in a biblical sense? Ronan eyed Kavinsky again. He probably should have expected this, but he still felt as if he’d been kicked in the ribs. Kavinsky wasn’t like that. He was an opponent, not a partner. “It was never going to be you and me.”

“I will burn you down,” Kavinsky said.

Ronan smiled, though his guts still felt twisted. Seeing Noah still gazing at Kavinsky didn’t help. “You wish.”

Kavinsky made a gun of his thumb and finger and put it to Noah’s temple.

“Bang,” he said softly, withdrawing the fake gun. “See you on the streets.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are heating up a bit in these two chapters >:-) Look forward to the next update on July 9th!


	12. A Final Chance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ronan wrapped his arms around Noah, kissing the top of his head. He was so faded it was hard to hold him, but Ronan did what he could. “C’mon. The body is upstairs. Let’s just try it, Noah, please. If it doesn’t work….we never have to try it again.”

The whole conversation with Kavinsky roiled in Ronan’s mind as he drove the new Noah back to Monmouth. He knew he shouldn’t be driving, after all the substances he had shared with Kavinsky, but right now all he cared about was getting Noah’s new body away from Kavinsky. Noah watched the other boy the whole time that they were driving out of the field, and he was quiet and unhappy as they drove along the roads back to Monmouth. He didn’t seem like  _ Noah _ , and Ronan didn’t know what to do about that. He hoped that the problem would be solved when Noah’s ghost took over the body. It was fucking creepy.

Ronan pulled the new, undamaged Pig into the overgrown lot of Monmouth and got out of the car. He rounded the hood and opened Noah’s door. Noah still hadn’t moved, but he looked up at Ronan and took his offered hand, rising slowly.

“Noah,” Ronan croaked, bending to peer into Noah’s soft eyes. “…Noah, man, what’s wrong with you?”

“Where’s K?” Noah whispered.

Ronan shook his head. “Forget that asshole. Come on. Let’s go.” He wrapped his fingers loosely around Noah’s wrist and led him inside, up the stairs, into the main room. Gansey was still not home, and Noah’s ghost - the true Noah - did not seem to be present. Ronan walked the copy to Noah’s room, pushing the door open and motioning him to sit. Noah took a seat on the edge of the bed, disturbing a puff of dust in the rays of sun from the window.

“Noah?” Ronan called to the warehouse at large. He shook his head at the copy. “Not you. You, stay here.” He left Noah’s bedroom and went to his own, opening the door. Noah wasn’t here either. He looked in the kitchen/bathroom/laundry, among Gansey’s things, even peeked down onto the first floor.

Movement in the shadows caught his eye, and he descended the stairs fully to investigate. As his eyes adjusted to the perpetual gloom of the space, he was able to see the outline of Noah, sitting alone and facing away from him. Noah was little more than a shadow himself, and Ronan knew again with complete certainty that Kavinsky and he were the cause of it all - Cabeswater vanishing, Noah’s semi-permanence, caused by their appetite for impossible things.

Noah spoke before Ronan could greet him, his voice deeply upset. “I can’t believe you went to /Kavinsky/.” He mumbled. “He creeps me out…”

Ronan hadn’t felt shame while he sat on the scorching roof of the Mitsu, drinking with Kavinsky. But the hurt in Noah’s eyes summoned it instantly, and he felt it in his gut like nausea. He swallowed and approached, crouching down beside Noah. “I’m sorry.”

Noah rubbed his sleeve under his nose, staring up at Ronan. His smashed cheek was more ghastly than ever in this light. “...I didn’t want to race with him. I told you it would go bad.”

Ronan bowed his head. Worse than nausea. There was nothing he could do about the feeling that curled in his gut now. “...he helped me.” He told Noah weakly. He doubted it would fix anything. 

Noah let out a soft puff of a sigh. “With a body? Ronan…”

Ronan lifted his head to look at Noah. Noah was chewing his lip, eyes downcast. “What?”

“Maybe… maybe we shouldn’t.” Noah whispered. He looked up when Ronan pulled back. “Ronan, it never stays! And everytime it goes away…”

“I fixed it.” Ronan defended. “It won’t vanish this time.”

“Do you know that?” Noah asked. Though he was trying to be firm, Ronan could see the hope in his eyes.

Ronan couldn’t lie. “No.”

Noah pressed his lips together, then leaned into Ronan. Ronan wrapped his arms around Noah, kissing the top of his head. He was so faded it was hard to hold him, but Ronan did what he could. 

They sat like that for several long minutes, until Ronan’s knees hurt from kneeling on the concrete. He spoke. “C’mon. It's upstairs. Let’s just try it, Noah, please. If it doesn’t work….we never have to try it again.”

Noah was beside Ronan as he mounted the stairs again, as they made their way into his bedroom. The copy still waited obediently on the edge of the bed, looking at them as they entered. Noah stared back at it, then tugged Ronan’s shirt. “Why is this one awake?” He whispered.

Ronan shrugged. “Kavinsky said it had to be. Like Chainsaw. Some shit about engines.” He knew he was being irritable, but he was hungry and hungover and sunburned. He badly wanted sleep, without dreams. “Try it out.”

Noah hovered around the body, inspecting it from different angles. Ronan leaned his shoulder on the doorframe to watch. The copy looked melancholy, and Ronan wanted to hurry up and possess it before it started whining about Kavinsky again.

After several long moments, during which Ronan barely repressed the urge to tell Noah to get a move on, Noah sat down with the body and became one with it, as he had before. The expression on the body changed, he looked up at Ronan, and slowly grinned. 

“Oh, yeah,” Noah said. “This one  _ feels _ different.”

Ronan’s shame melted and he grinned. He grabbed Noah up, pulling him into his arms and rubbing his stubbled jaw on Noah’s soft cheek. “Mission fucking accomplished.”

“Ronan, you smell!” Noah squeaked happily. He was so alive and real now in Ronan’s arms, compared to the wisp of a boy he had embraced below. He gasped, squirming, but he let Ronan kiss his soft hair and cheeks and lips, at least for a while. “Go shower,” he insisted.

Ronan let Noah go. “Tell me if you start to feel weird,” he murmured, glancing down at the body. It still looked whole and intact. But the others had, too.

Ronan left Noah and showered in the kitchen/laundry/bathroom, letting the lukewarm water wash away all the stink he had accumulated over the course of his bender. He returned to his room to get dressed, and found Noah already there. He had climbed into Ronan’s bed and curled up, the sheets pulled all the way to his nose, his tousled blonde hair the only thing above. When Ronan entered, Noah opened his eyes. His eyes scrunched with a grin hidden by the bedclothes. 

Ronan changed into shorts and climbed into bed with Noah. He was fucking exhausted, still drunk but moving into hungover, and hungry for something other than twizzlers. But that could wait. The world could wait. He opened his arms and let Noah fit against him, their warm skin in contact as they lay. Ronan was too tired to do anything but relax and let Noah kiss his freshly shaved cheek and play with the fuzz of hair on his scalp. They fell asleep together, nose to nose, their breaths mingled.


	13. Calm Before the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Noah.” Ronan guessed, his heart heavy with defeat, “The body vanished.”
> 
> Ronan had to watch Noah’s lips, or risk missing his barely audible words. “He took it.” 
> 
> “He-” Ronan felt like he had been punched in the gut. “Kavinsky?”

Ronan slept ten hours. When he woke, Noah was still there. Ronan pulled him close and celebrated his continued existence with a kiss, before getting up to drive around town and look for Gansey. The look on Gansey’s face when he saw the Camaro - undamaged and perfectly imperfect - was better than any pill Kavinsky could have in his arsenal. Ronan told him about Kavinsky’s dreams and the conclusion he had reached about Cabeswater’s disappearance, omitting the newly dreamt copy of Noah. 

When Ronan arrived back at Monmouth, he half expected to find his bed empty. But Noah was still there, curled like a cat in a sunbeam. Ronan let the door swing closed behind him, and joined Noah in bed. 

Three more hours passed. They got nothing done, every time one of them suggested going for a drive or making a food run, they got distracted from their task. Though they took some time to appreciate the reality of both having bodies for a change, they also spent a fair amount of time talking and watching videos and doing dumb shit, just like they always did. Noah still did not vanish.

Ronan knew he had more to do. He had saved one of Kavinsky’s green pills, and he knew what he had to use it for. But first he wanted to know every inch of Noah. He wanted to hold him, and feel the warmth of him. He wanted to find a million ways to make him laugh, or blush, or curl his toes. 

His phone buzzed, an incoming message from Kavinsky. He did not read the text. His hands were in Noah’s hair. 

_your mom calls me after we spend the day together_

His phone buzzed again. He did not read the text. His hands were under Noah’s shirt.

_ask me what my first dream was_

The phone was slowly buzzing it’s way off the edge of his bed. The movement of the blankets did nothing to keep it on.

_my favorite forgery is Prokopenko_

Ronan’s phone hit the ground loudly and Noah jumped. “You should check it,” he murmured against Ronan’s lips.

“You kidding?” Ronan asked. He had barely noticed it fall. 

Noah laughed and pushed his face away. “It might be Gansey.”

Ronan leaned over and grabbed it off the ground, eyeing the text that had just come in. It was not Gansey.

_I’m going to eat you alive man_

Ronan rolled back over Noah. “There’s something I need to do.”

Noah peered up at him, cheeks rosy and smile brilliant. “That’s a weird way to put it.”

Ronan huffed. “No. No, I need to cut this short. I need to dream.”

“Oh.” Noah laughed, allowing Ronan to sit up and watching him pull his shirt back on. “Dream what?”

Ronan reached for his discarded jeans, digging the little green pill out of the pocket. “I’ll let you know if I get it right. Hold tight, okay?”

Noah bobbed his head in assent. Ronan studied the green pill for several moments, before tucking it away in his pocket and curling up on his side. He felt Noah snuggle down behind him, wrapping his arm around Ronan’s middle. Ronan closed his eyes. He thought: _My father. My father. My father._

\---

Ronan woke from his dream, and found himself holding legal documents. They were identical to the ones that he had memorized, the letterhead and fonting and even the stark white of the paper was identical. The difference was in the seventh article - that one detailing that the Lynch brothers could never return to the world which they had come from. This newer version of the will would not restrict them as the last one had. They could go home. 

Noah peeped over his shoulder at the bundle of papers. “You ditched me for paperwork?” He asked, playing hurt.

Ronan’s heart was so full with the fact that he could soon go home, and the fact that Noah was still here, so many hours later. He dropped the papers safely off the bed and rolled back over Noah. “Noah, I’m going home.” 

Noah wrapped his arms around Ronan’s neck. Ronan felt his fingers brushing over the fuzz at the nape of Ronan’s neck. “Home? To The Barns?” 

Ronan nodded, and buried his face against Noah’s throat. Home. 

\---

“Ronan!” Gansey called, accompanied by a knock at Ronan’s door. Ronan rolled out of bed and left Noah - still there - to pull on pants and answer Gansey’s call. In the lot of Monmouth Manufacturing, a white Mitsubishi waited, keys in. Knife graphic slashed across the side, starkly black against the paint. The note on the steering wheel read: _This one’s for you. Just the way you like it: fast and anonymous._

Gansey inspected the note while Ronan inspected his leather bracelets. “I think he needs to come to terms with his sexuality.”

Ronan grunted. He thought Gansey might need to do the same, considering how much time he spent eyeing Parrish. Instead of this, he replied, “There is no coming to terms with having three balls.”

And he went back to bed. And Noah was still there.

\---

Ronan was roused by his phone buzzing again. Noah groaned, but Ronan reached over to check it. Kavinsky again.

_ballsack_

Ronan huffed and rubbed his eyes, typing out his response. _shitstack_

Noah leaned over Ronan’s shoulder, and they both watched the next message come in. 

_Coming to 4th of July?_

“You’re not, right?” Noah whispered. 

“No fucking way,” Ronan replied softly, fingers moving over the screen. _Would you stop if you knew it was destroying the world?_

Noah was kissing at Ronan’s ear, and Ronan was nearly ready to allow himself the distraction, when his phone lit up once more.

_god that would be awesome_

“Where are you going?” Noah asked, sounding disappointed, as Ronan sat up and began to get dressed.

“Looks like I have more shit to deal with.” Ronan said. He slid his phone into his pocket, and pulled a shirt on. “Stay here. Keep your head down. Gansey will shit bricks if he knew I got Kavinsky’s help making your body again.”

Noah flopped back into the pillows, pouting. 

Ronan gave him a final kiss before departing his room. 

Gansey was sitting in his miniature town, inspecting the facades of the downtown shops without making any adjustments. Ronan stopped at the town limits and stuck his hands in his pockets, looking down at him. 

“Well?” Gansey asked.

Ronan said, “Wouldn’t bet on the negotiations.”

\---

_hey Lynch I didn’t leave that car for it to just sit while you fuck cherry_

\---

The Fourth of July special mass found the three Lynch brothers at St. Agnes, Ronan arriving late and sliding into the pew beside his brothers. The priest had a black eye matching the bruises that Declan had been sporting when they’d spoken last. Ronan didn’t doubt it was the work of Mr. Grey. Anger swelled up inside him again, as it had when he had first encountered his father’s killer, so he put it into prayer. 

Declan shot him disapproving looks through the sermon. Matthew dozed on Ronan’s shoulder. Ronan thought of getting home to Noah, maybe going for a drive, stopping to get pizza. There seemed no danger now that the body would vanish, although the worry would always nag at the back of Ronan’s mind. But it had been days now, with no sign of a problem. 

As the churchgoers filed out after the service, Ronan dodged Declan and followed Matthew out into the open air. It was hot already, and Matthew was pulling at the collar of his good church clothes already, clearly antsy to get out of them. Ronan waved goodbye to Matthew as his brothers climbed into Declan’s volvo, before going to his own vehicle and driving back to Monmouth. As he moved to extract the keys from the ignition, something stopped him.

“Ronan.”

The voice was so soft, Ronan barely registered it. It was less the voice that stopped him, and more the chill on his neck.

“Ronan.” 

Ronan lifted his head, and froze when he saw Noah in the passenger seat. His heart plummeted. It was not the Noah he had spent the last stretch of days with, but rather the one he had known for over a year. The ghost. This Noah was so pale, such a scrap of a soul, that he could have been only a trick of the light. Except Ronan had heard him speak.

“Noah.” He spoke in a hushed tone as if Noah might blow away with a stronger tone. He guessed, his heart heavy with defeat, “The body vanished.”

The ghostly figure in the passenger seat shook his head, eyes dark and cheek shadowed despite the bright day outside. Ronan felt icy cold, though he knew the car must be hot as hell after sitting in the sun for an hour. Ronan had to watch Noah’s lips, or risk missing his barely audible words. “He took it.” 

“He-” Ronan felt like he had been punched in the gut. “ _Kavinsky_?”

Noah nodded solemnly. 

Ronan felt sick. The buzz of his phone made him jolt, he drew it out and read the incoming text. Kavinsky.

_Bring something fun to fourth of july or we’ll see which pill works the best on your bitch_

Ronan had the phone to his ear in a second and Kavinksy answered first ring, sounding filthily pleased with himself. “Lynch, fancy hearing from you.”

Ronan demanded. “Where is he?”

“You know, I asked nice the first few times. Are you coming to Fourth? Are you coming? Are you coming? Here, have a motherfucking car. Are you coming? Now, I’ve had a change of heart. I’m sick of your shit, Lynch! I’m keeping this little bitch. He’s a lot more cooperative, you get me?”

Ronan’s veins pumped burning fuel. He wanted to throw something. “I’m not doing this.”

Kavinsky laughed, low and filthy. “Fine by me. Like I said - I like him better. Baby, come here. Say hi.”

There was movement on the other end of the call, and then Noah’s voice spoke into the phone. It was unfamiliar, the same tones with a different cadence. The Noah-ness of him removed. He sounded completely at ease. “Hi.”

Kavinsky’s voice again. “You don’t want to come to Fourth? Boom. You don’t have to.”

But of course Ronan had to. Of course he could not leave Noah there. Even if it was not truly Noah’s body. He would not allow any part of Noah to be sullied by Kavinsky.

Ronan turned the car off, his movements charged by anger. Movement caught Ronan’s eye and he looked up to see Gansey stepping out of Monmouth. He raised his hand, speaking an inaudible question. Ronan’s ears were ringing. 

“You won’t get away with this.”

“I looked your fucking ghost friend up, you know. Noah Czerny.” Kavinsky pronounced the words with a smirk in his voice. “He’s been dead for seven years. What are you gonna do? Call the cops?”

“This was the wrong play. I will destroy you.”

Kavinsky laughed lazily. There was a shuffle as the phone was passed, and Kavinsky’s voice spoke, slightly removed from the phone. “Say bye, Noah, baby.”

“Bye.” Noah said softly into the phone, and there was an instant of Kavinsky’s laughter before the call ended.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh oh!! >:-)
> 
> Two more chapters coming July 11th!


	14. King of the Fourth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Cherry. Tell Lynch you don’t want to go back,” Kavinsky told Noah, in a softer voice than Ronan was accustomed to hearing from him.  
> “Who?” Noah whispered. He clearly had eyes only for Kavinsky. Ronan felt bile rising in his throat.  
> “That’s the spirit,” Kavinsky purred.

“I don’t understand what you’re telling me. How does _ Kavinsky _ have Noah?” Sargent demanded.

There had been no time for questions before this. Since the call had ended, Ronan had given Gansey the broadest strokes of the situation as they had sped to the Kavinsky manor to search, then gone to pick Blue up from Fox Way. Now it was Blue who knew instantly where to look - the Henrietta drag strip, where Kavinsky ruled on the Fourth.

Ronan’s knuckles were white on the wheel. They were creeping their way through the assortment of cars parked around the outskirts of the strip, a combination of Aglionby flare and the more modest cars of the Henrietta locals. This pace was killing Ronan. He didn’t want to waste a second. 

“There.” Gansey pointed out a spot, and Ronan pulled into it. They exited the car and moved towards the epicenter of the celebrations, far across the sunbaked grass. Ronan felt the gaze of the other two on him, and knew he had to explain.

“Kavinsky helped me dream him,” he muttered. “My dream Noahs kept fucking vanishing.”

“Plural?” Blue asked. “How many did you dream?” 

“Four.” Ronan growled. “I didn’t know how to do it right. Kavinsky did, so he helped me. But when the body doesn’t have  _ Noah _ in it, it’s still alive. And it trusts him. Fuck – it loves him.”

“Why can’t he just have this dream of Noah? Don’t they all vanish, after a day? Can’t Noah leave the body whenever he wants?” Gansey asked.

“You want any version of Noah being held captive by Kavinsky, even if our Noah can’t feel it?” Ronan demanded. Gansey held his hands up, an attempt to calm Ronan, and Ronan swore he could spit sparks. “Kavinsky’s probably gonna fucking kill him, or, god, fuck, I don’t even know–”

“We’ll find him.” Gansey said simply, with the voice of a leader. 

They had reached the celebrations now. It seemed the whole town had turned out, there were people everywhere. Aglionby students mingled with locals. Teenagers and families. Little kids running around with balloons on their wrists. Ronan was having a hard time putting these two images together, Kavinsky’s slick and dirty grin didn’t mesh with snow cone machines and whatever crowd-pleasing music was playing from the speakers. 

“Are you sure this is Kavinsky’s?” Gansey asked, eyeing their surroundings. 

“It’s early.” Sargent supplied. 

Ronan was still running on his fury, it pulsed sickly through him with every heartbeat. “He can’t be here. You have to be wrong.”

“I don’t know if he’s here yet, but this is the place. This is always the place,” Sargent snapped back. 

Gansey’s voice interjected, cool like summer rain. “Jane says this is the place. So it’s the place. Let’s do a study.”

And so they searched. Ronan stalked the outskirts of the party, avoiding everyone, trying to catch a glimpse of Kavinsky or his pack. The shadows grew longer as Ronan looked in every place he could think of, without success. Blue and Gansey caught up with him again. They, too, had been unsuccessful. 

The party was evolving. The kids who had been underfoot earlier were gone, and drinks were out. As the sun dipped lower there were bonfires lit which spewed sparks upwards to the dusky sky. Ronan felt the base of the speakers through the ground, beating the music into all their bones. Ronan’s adrenaline waned for a moment, and he felt how exhausted he was. This was hopeless. He turned slowly, gazing over all the places he had already checked. “Where are you, you bastard?”

“Lynch, baby!” 

Ronan’s fury shot through him again, reigniting his fading energy. He turned sharply, and found Kavinsky swaggering towards him from out of the crowd. Kavinsky was grinning, the smile cut across his face. Everything about him was vulgar in this low light, it made Ronan feel sick. None more than the boy at his side. 

It was not Proko or Swan, but rather Noah. Kavinsky’s arm was slung over his shoulders possessively, and Noah was looking at him with that same moonstruck expression that he had worn when he was first dreamed. Ronan knew this meant that Noah’s spirit, the true Noah, had fled far away from this shitshow.

“Give him back,” Ronan snarled as he strode towards them. He reached for Noah but Kavinsky stepped them back, and Noah followed, sheeplike. Kavinsky laughed uproariously. His pupils were huge and the light of the bonfires shone in them.

“Cherry. Tell Lynch you don’t want to go back,” Kavinsky told Noah, in a softer voice than Ronan was accustomed to hearing from him.

“Who?” Noah whispered. He clearly had eyes only for Kavinsky. Ronan felt bile rising in his throat.

“That’s the spirit,” Kavinsky purred. He let go of Noah, giving him a little push towards a Mitsu that waited near them. “Get in. I’ll deal with this.”

Ronan watched, uncomprehending, as Noah climbed into the front seat of the Mitsu. He moved forward, intending to stop him by any means necessary, but Kavinsky intervened. “You were a nice distraction, Lynch, but now that I’ve got this little bitch, I’m no longer interested.”

“You haven’t got him, K.” Ronan snarled. “Can’t you dream yourself one of your own? Why’s it gotta be Noah, huh? You’re so fucked in the head.”

“Man, whatever,” Kavinsky sneered. He gave Ronan a shove away from the car. “I like this one. Go fuck off and suck Dick’s dick.”

Ronan’s fist swung, catching Kavinsky’s jaw and sending him to the ground. He lay there, propped up on his elbows and laughing up at Ronan. “Man, I told you! I’m fucking done with you.”

“Man, I don’t think you are,” Ronan snarled, glaring down at him. “’Cause you could make yourself another Noah. But when you’ve got him here, you’ve got me too.”

Kavinsky spread his palms in a welcoming gesture, still lying where he had fallen. “There’s room for three.”

Ronan stepped over him and wrenched the door of the Mitsu open. “Noah, get the fuck out. Come on. Let’s go,” he told him sharply, grabbing Noah’s wrist. He hated to see that Noah looked scared of him, he cowered away from Ronan the way he should be cowering from Kavinsky.

“Babe!” Kavinsky called to one of them. Noah’s head turned, and Ronan hated himself as he looked also. This made Kavinsky grin as he stood up. “Cherry,” he specified, eyeing Noah. “There’s a present for you in the glovebox, sweetie.” He said the word with a sickening saccharin, an insult to any tenderness the word had.

Noah’s free hand reached out, pulling the glovebox open. He gasped softly at what it held. Ronan recognized the shiny silver gun with the words  _ DREAM KILLER _ embossed on the side.

“That’s for you,” Kavinsky specified again, grinning as he slouched against the hood of the car and flicked out a cigarette. He lit it lazily, watching the two of them with that intense interest of his that made Ronan want to swing his fist again. “To deal with creeps who won’t get their hands off you. You’re my baby now.”

Noah and Ronan both looked at the same time to where Ronan’s fist was closed around Noah’s thin wrist. Noah lifted the gun cautiously from the glovebox and weighed it in his hand, wrapping his fingers around it gingerly. It looked so out of place in his dainty hand, like a toy or prop. Ronan wondered if it fired real bullets. He wondered if he was about to find out. Still, he did not release Noah’s wrist.

“Go ahead,” Kavinsky slurred. He leaned forward over the hood, gazing in the windshield at Noah, their eyes locked. He breathed his words on a cloud of smoke. “Try it out.”

Noah looked up at Ronan, expression unsure. Ronan didn’t think the copy would shoot him, still, he felt a surge of trepidation.

Noah lifted the gun slowly, pointing it waveringly at Ronan. He swallowed hard and looked at Kavinsky through the windshield. “I don’t want…”

Kavinsky’s gaze flicked between the two of them, high on their tension in addition to the substances undoubtedly flooding his system. “C’mon… make me proud.”

Noah’s expression became resolute, and he looked back at Ronan again. Ronan couldn’t fucking believe this was happening. “Noah–” He muttered.

Noah pointed, furrowing his brows, then pulled the gun back and inspected it. “How do I…?”

“Take the safety off,” Kavinsky said, irritation eeking through his words. 

“Oh.” Noah did so, and pointed it again. Ronan was still holding Noah’s wrist loosely. He knew he should probably run, get the fuck out, cut his loses, but he still couldn’t quite believe this was happening. He was staring down the barrel of a gun, held by a boy who he had been kissing not twenty-four hours ago. 

“Do it!” Kavinsky urged.

Ronan didn’t know if Noah would do it. In that split second, he thought he would. But something in Noah’s eyes changed and he swung the gun around, pointing it at Kavinsky through the windshield. The gun fired. Kavinsky rolled. The glass windshield shattered into a million pieces, held stationary by its construction. A neat hole marked the point where the bullet had exited. 

Ronan had dropped Noah’s wrist when he fired. He reached for him again – he needed to disarm him, and take him away from this place – but Noah was exiting the car voluntarily. Ronan watched him switch the safety on and hold the gun protectively. Noah was watching Kavinsky, who had rolled off the hood of the car and was now getting up again. He was angry now, his sunglasses fallen off, his eyes full of flames.

Ronan understood.

“Noah,” he said, reaching for him, and Noah came to him now. He was trembling, he pushed the gun into Ronan’s hand and pressed his face to Ronan’s chest, clinging to him tightly. “You fucker. You couldn’t have come faster?”

“I was scared,” Noah whispered.

“I know–” Ronan began to soothe him, but Kavinsky’s raised voice interrupted. 

“You think you got your ghost buddy back, you’re gonna get out of here?” He shouted. The thunderheads that had been rolling in over the scene were rumbling now, a warning of the storm to come. “I don’t think so!”

Ronan pulled Noah close to him, raising the gun up. The Lynch family was well versed in guns, and even this strange dreamt model was simple enough.

But he couldn’t shoot Kavinsky.

“Ronan!” Gansey shouted. Ronan had almost forgotten they were there.

“I’m getting out of here,” Ronan told Kavinsky. “I’m taking Noah. And I’m leaving.”

Kavinsky scoffed. He swaggered closer, and Ronan took aim. He ignored the sounds of protest that Blue and Gansey made. He would not shoot Kavinsky – unless Kavinsky tried to lay a finger on Noah again. 

Kavinsky opened his palm, and Ronan squinted, trying to focus to see what it was that Kavinsky was displaying to him.

A green pill.

“First,” Kavinsky said, his grin as sharp as a blade. “Save your life. I’ll be right back, sweetie.”

And he put the pill on his tongue.

Ronan, Noah, Gansey, and Blue all watched Kavinsky hit the dirt. 

“Shit,” Ronan breathed. He let go of Noah and dove for the Mitsu, searching frantically for what he needed. A green pill. “Shit, shit.”

Sargent had knelt by Kavinsky, two of her fingers on his pulse. “What’s happening?”

Ronan withdrew from the Mitsu. “He’s dreaming. Who knows what he’s gone to get. Nothing good.  _ Shit _ , Kavinsky!”

Gansey had a hand on Noah’s shoulder, watching the scene with alarm. “Can we stop him?”

Ronan eyed the gun on the ground. He had let it fall. He couldn’t shoot Kavinsky. He was a twisted motherfucker, but life was never that simple. Ronan, himself a twisted motherfucker, knew that killing Kavinsky was not the answer. Still, they could not sit defenceless and let him wreak his terror. Ronan would meet him in the dream place again. There, at least, only they two could be hurt. He put the pill in his mouth, and spoke around it before swallowing. “Take Noah. And get the hell out of here.”


	15. To the Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kavinsky took a step closer. The forest was raging around them, but it didn’t touch the dreamers. They were a foot away, half a foot. Ronan could smell gasoline on Kavinsky. Despite everything, he still loved the reek of it. “Try things my way for a change, Lynch.”  
> Ronan crossed his arms between them. “Not my kind of fun.”  
> “God, we could have fun,” Kavinsky said.

Ronan was dreaming, and the dream was a violent thing, and it hated him. He knew it the moment he opened his eyes. He had stolen from this place, and it remembered him.

Kavinsky was there. Ronan saw him on his knees, his hands over his face, as the forest attacked him. Thorns dragged over his skin, freeing lines of blood.

Maybe the dream was not so safe a place to meet.

Ronan grabbed the thorns and dragged them away from Kavinsky, ignoring the bites they left in his palms. He beat them back and stomped them down.

Kavinsky wiped blood from his cheek, and stared at it as if he didn’t recognize the fluid. Everything was so wrong in this dream. “Guess our secret place is the same.” 

Ronan replied. “Not such a thief tonight.”

Kavinsky grabbed Ronan’s leg and dragged himself to his feet. His fingers were coated in blood, and now it stained Ronan’s jeans. He was bleeding life. “It doesn’t matter. It really doesn’t fucking matter.”

The forest was pressing in. Ronan knew they couldn’t wait here long. “You don’t have to do this.”

“There isn’t anything else, man.”

Ronan had been there, too.

“There’s reality,” he replied.

The sound Kavinsky made was nearly inhuman. “Reality,” he spat. “Reality’s what other people dream for you.”

“Reality is where other people are,” Ronan said. He didn’t know why it mattered now, to fight for Kavinsky to understand. He was not a king here. He was a thief, the lowest thing in this twisted forest, and he was pathetic. Ronan threw his arms out, indicating the aggravated dream world. “What’s here, K? Nothing! No one!”

Kavinsky wiped more blood from his cheek, his eyes meeting Ronan’s. “Just us.”

Ronan felt the meaning of the words, for once free of innuendo and scathing. They shared a mind here. “I have someone.”

Kavinsky scoffed. “Your dead boy?”

“Not anymore,” Ronan said. “He’s not dead anymore.”

Kavinsky wagged his head. His grin was patronizing, and Ronan was filled with fury all over again. “Man, tell that to his social security number. Your boy is dead, how do you think that’s gonna work? What’s the endgame there?”

Ronan stared, incredulous. “Why take him, then?”

Kavinsky laughed, and the forest seized around them for a staticy second. “You know why!”

Ronan did. “Me. Nothing changed.”

Kavinsky pointed a finger gun at him. His fingertips were smeared with blood. His grin was broken.

Ronan shook his head. The answer was still no. 

Kavinsky took a step closer. The forest was raging around them, but it didn’t touch the dreamers. They were a foot away, half a foot. Ronan could smell gasoline on Kavinsky. Despite everything, he still loved the reek of it. “Try things my way for a change, Lynch.”

Ronan crossed his arms between them. “Not my kind of fun.”

“God, we could have fun,” Kavinsky said. It was the kind of lewd comment he was prone to making, but his voice was different now. Maybe it was because they were so close. His bloodied hand reached up, and cupped Ronan’s jaw.

Ronan grabbed his wrist and pulled it away from his face. He knew that Kavinsky wanted to kiss him, but he would not allow it. “Life isn’t just sex and drugs and cars.” 

Kavinsky pulled his wrist free and stepped back. “Mine is.”

He raised his hand, and snapped. Ronan did not hear it so much as feel it, for the forest around them quaked with the effort of whatever Kavinsky was bringing into existence. The sound was deafening. The air seemed taut around them.

“You don’t have to do this,” Ronan said.

He saw it then. The great fiery beast, exploding into life above the trees. It was every blaze that had ever killed, rolled together into a tangible thing. It was death and it burned with hatred. 

Kavinsky lifted his head, watching the creature descend towards them. He looked at Ronan a final time, and spoke without a trace of humour or hatred. He sounded dull. Exhausted. “Try to keep up, Lynch.”

And then he was gone. The dragon was gone. He had woken.

\---

Ronan woke paralyzed, but his creation moved freely. He watched the great albino night horror uncurl itself from around him and propel itself at Kavinsky’s dragon. The two creatures shot up into the sky. When Ronan was able, he clambered to his feet. Kavinsky had not attacked him as he lay prone - instead, him and the rest of the partygoers were watching the fight, their heads tipped back to stare up at it. The dragon and the night horror came together, fell apart, came together again as they soared above. The sky rained sparks with every collision. Dark clouds were still rolling in, and electricity fizzled in the air.

The dragon tore itself free of the night horror and dove down, aiming for the strip, but no one seemed frightened of it. Ronan didn’t know how to tell them they should be. He watched the fiery comet collide with a light post, watched it burst into a million sparks. Still, there was no fear in the crowd. This was entertainment for them.

Ronan looked to Kavinsky, and saw in his face that he loved this. His expression was contorted with wild glee as he watched the display, fire burning in his eyes. 

The night horror descended once more on its target, plowing into it and sending both of them rolling across the strip, a ball of claws and flames and scorched feathers. Then the dragon was free again and coming toward them.

Ronan grabbed Kavinsky’s wrist. It was so thin, so insubstantial in his grip. “K, you have to stop it.”

Kavinsky spoke through his undying grin, still watching the battle. “No stopping it now, Lynch.”

As they spoke, the dragon alighted on one of Kavinsky’s white cars waiting on the strip. It only touched down for a second, but even so the car burst into flames. The gust of the dragon’s wings flipped the flaming car as the dragon took off. 

Noah came up on Kavinsky’s other side. He shot Ronan a look, before slipping his hand tentatively into Kavinsky’s. Ronan could tell that Noah was trying his best to act as the body did when uninhabited – simpering and mooning. “Kavinsky, can’t you please stop it? For me?”

Kavinsky jerked his hand away from Noah, laughing wildly as he watched the continued destruction his dream created. 

The dragon was preparing to dive again, and now there were the first signs of fear in the crowd. They were realizing this was not a show, not just a trick of Kavinsky’s. 

Flames were spreading from every place the dragon had touched down. The strip was burning. Some part of Ronan’s mind registered sirens in the distance, but his focus was only on the now. Gansey and Blue were here. Noah was here. Half the town was here. He needed to stop Kavinsky, before it was too late. If it wasn’t already.

The dragon had been hitting every car on the strip like targets, and now they all burned. The world burned. It moved towards Blue and Gansey, and Ronan had only to think for his night horror to know what to do. It dived in the dragon’s path, diverting it, fighting it down. 

Gansey yelled. “ _ Do something _ !”

Ronan looked to the gun that had fallen in the dust. Noah looked too, and then looked at him. The world was burning around them. It was Kavinsky’s fault. But the slight shake of Noah’s head brought a wave of relief crashing over Ronan – they could not kill Kavinsky. Ronan had known it already, but now he knew they both shared this thought. Whatever the solution was, it was not to kill Kavinsky. 

Ronan grabbed Kavinsky and shook him, pulling his attention away from the aerial battle. “Okay. We’re done. You have to stop this shit, or we’re all going to be fucking dead.”

Kavinsky laughed, letting his head fall back. “You missed my  _ point _ , man. All I wanted was  _ this _ –”

He jabbed his chin at the two creatures who still fought in the dust of the track. They were getting closer, and Ronan could feel the heat off the dragon like a bonfire. He choked on it’s acrid fumes, watching it collide with a nearby car, which burst alight violently. Ronan let go of Kavinsky and grabbed Noah instead, pulling him away from the flames. He watched as Kavinsky scrambled up onto the hood of the Mitsubishi. Ronan folded his arms around Noah, keeping him close and away from the flames as they both watched Kavinsky. Even from a distance, Ronan could see him shaking with ecstasy. They watched him lay a hand to his chest, and slip his white sunglasses on. Watched the dragon tear free of the night horror, and swoop towards them. 

Ronan saw what Kavinsky was doing. Noah was suddenly tense in his arms. Ronan shouted to Kavinsky, raising his voice over the roar of the flames. “Get down!”

Kavinsky’s gaze was locked unflinchingly on the dragon as it tore across the strip towards him. “The world’s a nightmare.”

The realization was still pumping through Ronan’s veins, taking too long to reach his hands and feet. He snarled, “Come down, you bastard!”

Kavinsky didn’t answer.

The dragon was so close. The beat of its wings on the dusty ground was like a clap of thunder. Kavinsky was silhouetted before them, a wasted frame edged by fire. 

Ronan was only aware that Noah had begun to struggle when he suddenly ducked free of his arms. Ronan let out a shout as Noah leapt – towards the car, onto the hood – but before he could grab him back, there was a gust of wind so hot and foul that Ronan had no choice but to duck back. The sound of the explosion tore through the air and Ronan felt the intense heat as the car exploded into flame. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update July 13th 🙊


	16. Heaven’s Onslaught

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ronan fell to his knees. “Noah? Are you okay?”
> 
> “Yeah.” Noah said, lifting his head to look at Ronan. His eyes went huge and he pointed upwards. “...but we’re not done yet.”

Ronan spat dust as he scrambled to his feet again, running before he could even fully straighten. He ducked around the flaming car and skidded to a stop, staring at what lay before him. 

Noah and Kavinsky were both sprawled in the dirt. As Ronan watched, Noah pushed himself up onto his elbows, and Kavinsky let out a low groan. Relief flooded Ronan, so sudden and all-encompassing that it hurt.

“...man, I think you chipped my tooth.” Kavinsky muttered into the dirt.

Ronan fell to his knees beside them. “You bastard, I’ll break your whole face. Noah? Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Noah said, lifting his head to look at Ronan. His eyes went huge and he pointed upwards. “...but we’re not done yet.”

Ronan and Kavinsky both looked, and together they followed the progress of the dragon through the sky. It was battling the night horror again, but it was clear that Ronan’s creation was flagging. They watched it struggle to stay aloft in the air, feathers sooty and scorched. The dragon let loose another shriek, like metal on metal, and dove at Ronan’s night horror.

Ronan looked down at Kavinsky. He had rolled onto his back, pushed up onto his elbows. His sunglasses had been knocked off and Ronan could see now the ashy tracks that tears had left on his cheeks. He looked how Ronan felt – exhausted, emotionally pummeled. 

“Man, what were you thinking.” Ronan muttered. He grabbed Kavinsky by the front of his shirt, and hauled him to his feet. “That’s not how we stop this thing.”

Kavinsky spat blood into the dust. “Stop it? That would stop it?”

Ronan shook him, all his relief instantly replaced by anger. “You dumb fuck! You were going to kill yourself and you didn’t give a shit if it would keep destroying the world?”

“Woah, woah…” Kavinsky groaned, grabbing Ronan’s hand on his shirt and trying to cease the shaking. “You never had a dream you couldn’t control?”

“Guys!” Noah said in alarm, pointing across the track. Ronan’s night horror was all but done, and the dragon was looking for a new target. “Guys, it’s gonna be coming our way real soon!”

“Fuck!” Ronan didn’t have a plan. Kavinsky’s monster seemed unkillable as it plowed through parked cars and brought banners down burning. The crowds had fled and left the fairgrounds a wasteland of discarded food wrappers and paper flags. The only people who still stood on the track which was quickly growing to resemble a warzone were Ronan, Noah, K, Gansey, and Sargent. Ronan waved his arm at the other two sharply. “Sargent! Get him the fuck out of here!”

“What?” Gansey said, his eyes wide, totally focused on the dragon. Blue grabbed his wrist, pulling him stumbling after her as she ran across the field away from them. 

“If me dying fixes it–” Kavinsky said, swaying slightly at Ronan’s side.

“No,” Ronan snarled, grabbing Kavinsky by the wrist to stop him from doing any more dumb shit. “You made this fucking mess, you’re going to clean it up. And live to tell me how sorry you are. You get that?”

Kavinsky showed his teeth. “I got that. You’re fucking cute when you’re angry, you know that, Lynch?”

“Guys!” Noah shouted, grabbing Ronan’s wrist and tugging him away as the dragon began to advance on them, opening it’s great fiery maw and billowing out rancid smoke. Ronan pulled Kavinsky with him, and together they narrowly avoided the dragon as it swept low. Kavinsky cursed and stumbled, and Ronan hauled him back up again, supporting him under his arms when Kavinsky failed to find his footing. 

“Ideas?” Ronan demanded of Noah.

Noah shook his head, looking terrified. The dragon pinwheeled above them, releasing another hateful call to the night. The storm clouds above them had turned the evening sky black, without a hint of the moon.

Ronan was similarly empty of ideas. What could they do, without killing Kavinsky? They were fighting a flying forest fire, a molotov monster. As they watched, Ronan’s night horror struggled up from the dirt, then sagged sideways again and collapsed. The dragon screamed.

“Let me,” Kavinsky started again.

Ronan gave him a rough shake. “You’re not dying tonight, K.”

“Why the fuck do you care!” Kavinsky laughed, the sound strangled. “You had so many fucking chances to care.”

“Is that why you took Noah? You thought I’d care about you if you took him away?” Ronan demanded. Anger made his voice deadly and low.

“I knew you’d come!” Kavinsky snarled. He was still laughing horribly. Light from the floodlights caught on fresh tears slipping down his cheeks. “I knew you’d see me die. Then you’d care.”

“You’re so fucked up,” Ronan said. “But I still won’t let you die.”

“It’s coming again!” Noah yelled over their voices, and Ronan dragged the other two down as the dragon swooped above. Thunder rumbled in the valley. The trees around the field showed the silver undersides of their leaves. 

The rain. The dragon was made of fire, and the dark clouds above them now were heavy with rain. Maybe the downpour could stop Kavinsky’s dream – or at least, give them a distraction long enough to find another means. Could Ronan dream another night horror? The stretched tight feeling inside him told him no, the dream place was worn too thin by their fantastical creations. 

Ronan pushed onto his hands and knees, then to his feet, though exhaustion tried to drag him down again. He pulled Noah up by the hand, and Kavinsky by the back of his shirt, setting him unkindly on his feet. 

“We have to outlast it,” Ronan told them, jabbing a finger toward the heavens. “Until the rain.”

“Is that gonna work?” Noah asked fearfully. Ronan didn’t have time to answer – the dragon was coming at them again, and they had to run. Ronan grabbed Kavinsky’s wrist and dragged him along with them as they dodged out of the dragon’s path. It had speed but seemed incapable of changing direction once it had entered a dive. Ronan had seen enough action movies to know better than to run in the direction it dove. They diverted sideways as it careened into the dust in a long skid. 

The victory was only temporary. The dragon shook itself and exploded back up into the sky, letting out a cry of frustration like metal rent in two. Noah shouted. “You’re just making it mad!”

Ronan swore colourfully, squeezing Noah’s hand and Kavinsky’s wrist as he stared at the storm clouds. He could feel the electricity in the air, felt choked by the humidity. Any moment now. Any moment now, the rain would come. It had to come. 

“If you don’t let me do it, it’s gonna fucking get all of us,” Kavinsky said, dragging his free hand under his nose as he stared at his creation thrashing and wheeling in the sky. He jerked his arm, trying to break away from Ronan’s hold. Ronan was aware of how thin Kavinsky’s wrist was in his fist. He did not break his hold. There was a growing possibility that Kavinsky was right, and this was a suicide mission for the three of them. 

“I meant what I said,” Ronan told him poisonously. The dragon had spotted them again, standing amid the wreckage, and it pulled up, preparing to dive. The strip was burning. Everything was fire. 

Kavinsky let out a rough laugh. “Is this a Catholic thing or are you just an idiot?”

There was nowhere else to run, all exits blocked by flaming wreckage. Even if they could run, how long could they play this game? Thunder shook the air around them, but still not a drop of rain fell. 

The dragon dived.

On one side of Ronan, Noah gasped. 

The other side, Kavinsky breathed a sigh.

Through the heat haze of the night, a moving car across the field caught Ronan’s eye. In the infinite moment it took the dragon to dive at them, he squinted his eyes to watch. The car looked like something brought to the strip to be torched but it was intact. Ronan saw it come to a stop and watched three people exit the vehicle. 

Parrish. Sargent. Gansey. 

They were so far away that Ronan knew he would not be able to hear what they said, even without the roar of the flaming creation as it sped toward the ground. He didn’t want them here. He didn’t want them to see this. 

Gansey started toward them across the field, but Blue grabbed his hand and Adam his shoulder. 

“Ronan!” Noah shouted.

The dragon was too close. Ronan had no choice – he pushed Kavinsky and Noah away from him and flung himself back, landing hard on the dirt. The heat on his back told him he was too close to a fire, but there was no time to move. He threw his arms up as the dragon slammed to the ground before him. He felt the physical impact, and when he lowered his hands, a crater indented the earth before him. The dragon uncoiled itself, hissing and spitting, it’s fiery tail thrashing in the dust. It stared right at Ronan.

Kavinsky and Noah had been pushed clear, but Ronan now watched in horror as Kavinsky got to his feet, swaying. He rapped his knuckles on his own hollow chest, drawing the attention of the dragon toward him. It turned, claws curling in the burning dirt. 

“Me,” he rasped. “Not him. Me.”

“No,” Ronan snarled.

Kavinsky grinned at him. More than ever, it looked like the leering grin of death. “Nice try, sweetheart.”

Ronan’s ears were ringing, as he watched the dragon make its slow approach to Kavinsky. He missed Adam’s voice, until Noah scrambled over to him and punched his arm. Ronan looked at him, and Noah pointed to Adam, approaching across the burning strip with the other two. 

“Lynch!” Parrish called. “What do you need?”

Ronan tried to speak, but the smoke choked him. He let out rattling coughs, eyes stinging as he stared at Kavinsky, to whom the dragon was still stalking. 

“Rain!” Noah answered Adam.

Adam looked at Gansey. “I’ve done all I can for the ley line tonight. The energy is as strong as I can get it.”

Gansey nodded. He was still gripping Sargent’s hand, his expression serious but not fearful. They all watched as he drew himself up. He took a breath, and it felt as if he inhaled all the gaseous fuel of the dragon. It was nearly upon K, but that inhale brought it’s attention snapping to Gansey. 

And Gansey spoke, his voice that of a king. 

“ _ Rain _ .”

The end of his word was nearly drowned out by the crack of thunder that shook the air, perfectly synchronized with the flash of lightning in the clouds above them. Everyone – the humans, the dreamers, the dreams - lifted their faces to the heavens. 

And then came the rain.

The droplets fell like hailstones, fat and heavy, so long captive inside their cumulonimbus prisons. Ronan felt one splatter on his brow, on his hand, and then it was impossible to distinguish the individual droplets as the sky opened and the flood poured down upon them. He looked to Noah beside him, who had opened his palms to the sky, his expression startled and rapturous. 

Kavinsky was laughing. Ronan turned, and saw Kavinsky kneeling in the dirt, his head tipped back as the water ran rivulets through his slicked back hair, over his heavily inked arms, soaking into his clothing. 

Before him, the dragon thrashed and twisted in the dirt. The roar of the rainfall and continued rolls of thunder had nearly drowned out the sound of it, the hiss of a fire with water thrown over it. It no longer pursued them. They had outlasted it. 

Kavinsky’s mirth was contagious, and Ronan found himself laughing too. He threw an arm around Noah, pulling him close as the rain poured down, and kissing him. Noah’s fingers rooted in Ronan’s soaking shirt, and when they broke apart, he laughed too, albeit shakily. He cuddled into Ronan, staring at the thrashing dragon. “Is it dying? Did we kill it?” 

Ronan held Noah crushingly close, watching the dragon’s fire was doused. Fat droplets fell onto the flames, burning away in an instant only to be replaced by more water. The flames were losing, the onslaught of rain winning.

“Yeah,” Ronan said. He stood, dragging Noah up to his feet. The others were coming to them now, giving the dying dragon a wide berth. All of them were drenched, and they looked more terrified than Ronan felt. The thrill of winning was as high as Kavinsky’s pills.

Ronan extended his fist, and Gansey bumped it. “Excelsior,” He said in a small voice, casting his gaze nervously to the dragon. “I know you told us to go, but Parrish…”

Adam’s hands were in his pockets, he stared down at the dragon, then the still-laughing Kavinsky. “I knew you’d need them.” He said distantly. 

“You were right,” Ronan said. He kept an arm around Noah, tucking him under his chin and holding him close. “We’d all be fucked without you.”

“Noah,” Blue said, hugging herself. She was so drenched she looked like she’d been swimming. “ _ Why _ did you save him?”

Noah mumbled something against Ronan’s collar, clinging tightly to him. When none of them responded, he turned his head so they could hear and said it again. “No one should die at seventeen.”

Blue’s teeth were chattering, she hugged herself as the rain continued to bucket down. “But he’s an asshole, Noah. Didn’t he… didn’t he… hurt you? Hurt this body?” 

Ronan felt Noah shake his head, still snug against him. “He was bluffing. He just wanted Ronan here.”

Adam scoffed softly. “That’s fine then.” He said, with a level of sarcasm encroaching on Ronan’s trademark.

“Noah was right to save him,” Ronan said. “He’s fucked up. But that’s not a reason to die.”

They looked as one toward Kavinsky and the dragon. Kavinsky sat in the mud, his legs spread out in front of him, leaning back on his palms. He had stopped laughing, but there was still a smirk on his face. 

The dragon was no longer flaming. Without the protective layer of fire, they saw that it was something else - scaled as a snake, green as Kavinsky’s pills, only as long as Ronan was tall. It looked ripped from the pages of a book, like the wyrms in old legends that Niall had once read to his sons. For a moment Ronan believed it was dead, before a huff of steam escaped it’s nostrils. It crawled forward slowly and positioned itself around Kavinsky. It seemed as if it no longer sought to harm, but rather to protect.

“Are we done here?” Gansey asked warily, watching the movements of the dragon.

“We’re done,” Ronan said firmly. The fight would not continue. He would not let Kavinsky come for them again, after they had saved him. “K. We’re done.”

Kavinsky’s attention was on the dragon as he ran his palm over the smooth scales of it’s back. “Kind of friendly once you cool him down.” He mused with another incredulous laugh. “Lynch, come here.”

Ronan let go of Noah, ignoring the looks of the others as he went to Kavinsky and crouched beside him. “Yeah?”

“It’s fucking friendly. Pet it,” Kavinsky said, leaning back slightly and looking up at Ronan.

Ronan brushed his fingers along the scales, and found them cool to the touch. “Nice,” he grunted. “You’re gonna come with us, alright?”

Kavinsky rubbed under his nose, making a shaky noise that sounded less like a laugh. “I need to get high again.”

“Yeah,” Ronan said, not knowing what else to say to that. This wasn’t his area of expertise, not by a long shot. “You’re still gonna come with us. Man, you need help. You need a fuckload of help.”

“Hypocrite,” Kavinsky said.

“Whatever.” 


	17. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This had been requirement number one. Rehab. There hadn’t been much discussion of Kavinsky going alone.

“Friendship bracelets,” Kavinsky said, bumping his bony wrist to Ronan’s as they sat outside the facility.

Ronan picked at his own identification band, looking out across the parking lot. “I thought you were weird all the time ‘cause you were high,” he commented.

“Nah. Just weird,” Kavinsky replied. “When’s Dick coming?”

Ronan glanced at his phone. “No news.”

This had been requirement number one. Rehab. There hadn’t been much discussion of Kavinsky going alone. Ronan didn’t think he himself had a problem, but it was decided that his vices were significant enough to make a good sober buddy for Kavinsky. No one really trusted Kavinsky to go it alone. They had completed the initial stretch together, but the recovery was far from over. Everyone except Kavinsky agreed that a considerable amount of therapy was likely the best way to help him. That, and friends who would support him. 

“So if I’m crashing at Dick’s place, are you and I gonna share a bed or what?” Kavinsky asked.

“You’re not crashing. You’re moving in.” Ronan said, though he knew Kavinsky knew this already. “And you’ll be taking Noah’s room. Since he sleeps in my bed.”

Kavinsky pressed a hand over his chest, mouth forming an ‘oo’. “You’re fucking cruel, man. Stone cold.”

This had been the second requirement. After rehabilitation, Kavinsky would move out of his mother’s mansion and into Gansey’s warehouse. Gansey had been cautious, to say the least, but he could tell how much Ronan wanted it. And he caved. This way they could keep an eye on Kavinsky, notice quickly if he was slipping back into his old ways. They could make sure he went to school, at least some of the time. They could keep him away from the Dream Pack, who were trouble no matter how you cut it. 

Kavinsky continued. “You sure there’s not room in that bed for me? Right between you and Cherry?”

Ronan shot him a glance. “Hey. Don’t be a shithead.”

Requirement three: Don’t be a shithead. 

Kavinsky laughed at the look from Ronan, and held his hands up. “Alright, alright…”

Ronan sheathed his glare and looked forward again, just in time to watch the Camaro pulling into the parking lot. He lifted a hand and Gansey spotted them and pulled up.

“You didn’t text,” Ronan called as Gansey rolled the window down.

“You never check your phone,” Gansey replied. “Jesus, what did they do to you here? You read texts now?”

Ronan scoffed and got to his feet, ignoring Gansey as he watched Noah throw the passenger door open. He launched himself at Ronan and Ronan caught him up, pulling him close and kissing him fiercely. Kavinsky whistled, which was technically shithead behaviour, but Ronan paid him no mind. They broke apart but still stayed within inches of each other, wrapped in each other's arms. 

“Did it suck?” Noah whispered. He looked sweeter than ever, and being with him now only reminded Ronan how much he had missed him.

“Yeah.”

“Did you miss me?”

“Dumbass. Yeah, course I did.”

They kissed again. By the time they separated, Kavinsky was already climbing into the passenger seat of the Camaro. “So you two can bump it in the back,” he specified. 

The shithead requirement would take some time.

Ronan got the door for Noah and watched him slide into the back, before following himself.

“Seatbelts, everyone,” Gansey ordered.

“Shut up, geezer,” Ronan said. He reached into the front seat to bump fists with Gansey, then leaned back and fastened his seat belt. “What’s new?”

“Cabeswater is back,” Gansey told them as he navigated back out of the lot and toward Henrietta. The drive was not long, they had been lucky to find a clinic in the area. “Which means Joseph is keeping his end of the deal.”

“Hell yeah,” Kavinsky said, voice muffled as he tried to break the identification band off his wrist with his teeth. 

Requirement four was that if Kavinsky must dream, he would do it responsibly. Not every night. No drug assisted dreaming. No more Mitsubishis. The first nights in the facility, every feverish sleep Kavinsky had been able to fall into had resulted in dream substances strewn across his bed. Ronan had flushed enough pills to fuck up half the state. It was lucky that Kavinsky had enough money to splash around that the staff didn’t ask a lot of questions. In a way his one-mindedness was helpful - though the drugs were dangerous, it would have been a lot harder to flush a car.

In time, these dreams had become less frequent. Ronan could feel the difference it made in his own dreams. Without Kavinsky’s demands, the power of Cabeswater flourished inside him. Kavinsky still dreamt occasionally, but without the green pills his dreams were less focused and the results were strange and useless. Ronan considered this to be progress - Kavinsky couldn’t drain the ley line dreaming only cups with no bottoms and singular, miniature car wheels.

“Good job.” Gansey said. Ronan could tell how uncomfortable he still was to have Kavinsky in the front seat of his precious Camaro, but he was trying. “And I suppose this means an end to your criminal activity? As we discussed?”

“Sure does, Dicky,” Kavinsky replied. “No drugs to sell. No fake IDs, either. Cross my heart.”

This was the last requirement they had reached. No more forgeries, no more illicit substances. No more substance parties. Street racing had not been mentioned specifically, but Ronan suspected it was included in the ban on illegal activities. Even if it wasn’t, all Kavinsky’s Mitsus had been burned up at his disastrous Fourth of July party. 

Gansey met Ronan’s eyes in the rear-view for an instant. His asked, ‘are we still sure about this?’. Ronan’s replied, ‘he’s our problem now’.

Ronan felt Noah’s fingers brush his hand arm, before slipping down his wrist to twine their fingers together. Noah leaned on Ronan’s shoulder as they drove home, the weight of his head a constant reminder that he was still real. Kavinsky had been right - the problem had been the body, and they had fixed it together. Noah was here, really here. And Kavinsky was riding shotgun with Richard Campbell Gansey III, messing with his radio. None of it seemed quite real, but Ronan had grown accustomed to accepting the impossible. 

Parrish and Sargent were waiting outside of Monmouth when Gansey drove into the lot. Ronan climbed out and bumped fists with them each in turn. “Cabeswater’s back?”

Adam bobbed his head, eyeing Kavinsky as he got out of the Camaro. “Seems so. You two got through it, then?”

“Worse for him than me,” Ronan commented. “Sargent, you get shorter?”

Blue swung a kick at his shin and Ronan swore, but Gansey held his hands up to prevent any more squabbling. “Settle. Parrish, what’s the status of Joseph's things?”

“Blue and I got his clothes and whatnot from his mom’s place, put it all in Noah’s room. Uh. His room.” Adam waved vaguely back at the old factory. 

“What about Blunt?” Kavinsky asked, swinging up out of the passenger seat. 

The group looked at him as one. Adam arched a brow. Gansey said, “Sorry?”

“The fucking dragon. Where’s my buddy at,” Kavinsky asked, sticking his thumbs in the waistband of his joggers and tipping back against the car, clearly pleased by the reaction he had gotten.

“Jesus,” Gansey murmured, rubbing his brow.

Adam jabbed a thumb over his shoulder at the warehouse. “First floor. We weren’t sure what to feed it, but it seems to like the rats that live down there.”

“When we were carrying your stuff up, it got some of your firecrackers,” Blue added. “And ate them. After that we fed him pretty much just fireworks - he likes the sparklers too.”

Kavinsky nodded along, not looking surprised by the information. He pushed off the car and headed toward the building. Ronan followed at a safe distance, Noah by his side. They watched Kavinsky step into the bottom level of the factory. Something in the darkness let out a cry, a tamer version of the screams that had rent the sky on the fourth, and the dragon shot out of the darkness and wrapped itself around Kavinsky. Ronan twitched forward to help him, but Kavinsky’s laughter seemed to suggest a happy reunion rather than a deadly attack. 

“Motherfucker!” He cursed joyfully, struggling to haul the dragon up over his shoulders to keep it from slipping down his skinny frame. “Forgot how fucking heavy it is.”

“Where’s mine?” Ronan asked Noah, glancing down at him.

“Your room,” Noah whispered, pulling Ronan toward the stairs. “Come on.”

Ronan followed Noah up into the second floor. It was largely unchanged, though new maps stretched over the floor and there seemed more books than ever. 

“You remembered to feed Chainsaw?” Ronan asked as they crossed the dusty floor.

Noah bobbed his head. “She missed you at first, but I think she likes me better, now.”

Ronan grinned and mussed his hair. “Fuck you.”

Noah’s laugh rang through the warehouse as he pulled Ronan into his room. Their room. Ronan had half expected this to be a ploy to get Ronan alone, so he was surprised to really find the albino night horror stretched out on his bed. With its wings folded and beaks and eyes closed, it did not seem as massive and threatening as it once had. The burns inflicted by Kavinsky’s dragon were healing well and it was regrowing the feathers that had been scorched off. Ronan left Noah at the door and went over to rub its beak. The night horror clicked softly at him, opening one lazy eye. “Don’t get too comfortable,” Ronan murmured. “I’ll need that bed again.”

He cast a glance around his room. All evidence of drinking had been banished - empty and full bottles, glasses, all of it removed. It must have been Parrish who had done it, to so meticulously extract these items without disturbing anything else. Noah was over by Chainsaw’s cage, unlatching the door and letting her fly free. She soared to Ronan and landed on his arm, cawing loudly and pecking at his ear in greeting. “Jesus!” Ronan snapped, but he was glad to see her. 

Noah came to join them in the center of the room, hugging Ronan’s waist and tucking his head under Ronan’s chin. “Told you she missed you,” he mumbled against Ronan’s collar. 

Ronan breathed in the scent of Noah - shampoo and body wash with a hint of forest in the summertime. “I missed her. I missed you. Man - it sucked.”

“Is Kavinsky better now?” Noah asked in a very small voice. 

“Sober,” Ronan said quietly. “And he’s being less of a shithead.”

“Per the agreement.”

“Per the agreement,” Ronan agreed. “But I think being sober helps. And he’s gonna have therapy - that’ll help.”

“Yeah,” Noah whispered. “Ronan - he likes you a lot, doesn’t he?”

Ronan pulled back to look down at Noah. “...yeah. He makes that pretty obvious. Does it bug you?”

Noah shook his head. “Who wouldn’t like you? I like you a lot too.”

Ronan laughed, and caught Noah’s cheek, guiding his face up and kissing him again. When they parted to breath, Ronan said. “Man, it’s worse than that. Noah - I think I love you.”

Noah’s lips parted and he gazed up at Ronan, his eyes huge. There was a beat, two, when Ronan was worried he had said the wrong thing. Before Noah said, “I love you too, Ronan.”

Ronan hugged him tightly, hand cupping the nape of Noah’s neck. For several moments they just held each other, sharing soft kisses and whispered conversation, until a knock came on the door. Ronan answered it, opening it wider when he saw it was Gansey. 

“We thought to take Joseph’s dragon out to get some fresh air. Should your creation come as well?” Gansey asked, oblivious to Noah’s lingering blush.

With some difficulty, they managed to coax Ronan’s recovering night horror down off his bed and out of the warehouse. Evening had fallen over the small town as Ronan and Noah reunited, and in the cover of darkness they brought the dream things out from the warehouse. Ronan’s night horror was cautious of the dragon, but neither attacked.

As the teens argued about how to get the dragon and the much larger night horror into vehicles to transport them somewhere that they could roam free, Ronan watched the dreams creep closer to each other across the scraggly lot. The dragon sniffed around like a wary dog, while the night horror ruffled it’s scorched feathers and stared imposingly down. He jolted forward instinctively as the dragon suddenly shot up into the air, and the night horror flared its great white wings wide and flapped after it. Ronan hurried forward, glaring up after them into the night sky. “Fuck! How the hell are we going to get them down?”

The others craned their necks, watching the two shapes silhouetted faintly in the moonlight. They didn’t seem to be fighting again, instead they circled each other curiously, with more freedom than they’d had on the ground. 

Kavinsky made his way over to stand beside Ronan, squinting up at the heavens. “Is this some Planet Earth bullshit?”

Ronan guessed he was talking about the mating dances of exotic birds of paradise. It did bear a resemblance to that, the playful showboating. The scales of the dragon’s belly flashed in the moonlight as it did barrel rolls before the watchful night horror. “I don’t think these species breed,” he muttered. 

“I don’t think there’s much we can do to get them back now,” Parrish said, tracking their progress with his eyes as they began to fly out over the mountains, becoming smaller and smaller in the dark sky. 

“They better not be invasive,” Sargent muttered. 

Noah stepped closer to Ronan and Ronan tucked him under his chin, as together the group watched the tiny specks that were the dream creatures disappearing. Gansey said. “Ronan, they’re going toward the Barns.”

“I know,” Ronan said. He glanced at Kavinsky. “If your fucking dragon burns my house down…”

Kavinsky laughed, pressing a hand to his chest and looking at Ronan with an approximation of innocence on his face. “Blunt would  _ never _ .”

Ronan glowered back at him, but he felt Noah giggle against his collarbone.

Gansey let out a soft huff, turning back to look at his friends when the dreams were no longer visible. His smile shone. “Excelsior.” 

“What’s that?” Kavinsky asked.

“Onwards and upwards,” Ronan said absently, the pads of his fingers tracing through Noah’s feathersoft hair. 

“Right, fuck. Say it with feeling, man!” He urged Gansey, drawing his hands out of his pockets and throwing them up. He shouted into the night sky, “EXCELSIOR!”

Now Noah was really laughing. His laughter was infectious and Blue was the first to catch it, pressing a hand over her mouth. Adam pressed his lips together to stifle himself and Gansey cracked a real grin. Ronan felt like he had been building a puzzle that was finally coming together, and he could nearly see the full picture now, though at the start it had seemed that the pieces were from entirely different sets. 

The night sky rang with the laughter of the mismatched group of teens and increasingly bold cries of ‘excelsior!’ from even the shyest members of the group. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading my work!
> 
> Thank you to sinplaytheartist for their fantastic work of art for this fic. They worked so hard and it really shows in their detailed creation. Thank you for consulting with me as you worked, and putting so much time into making it perfect! 
> 
> Thank you to blueseyforthesoul for editing. You were a perfect editor, and know so much more about grammar and punctuation than i ever will.
> 
> Thank you to the mods for creating this Big Bang. I've never been part of one before and I definitely enjoyed it, I've made new friends and written my longest work yet.


End file.
